


A Last Hope: Crystal Clear

by dogmatix, norcumi



Series: Balance [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU of an AU of an AU, Alternate Universe, GFY, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Jedi is looking to get home after a mission run long and very, very annoying. Yet another is just trying to do their job. Running across Dark users was not something they planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yuri Dravaco appears in flamethrower’s Re-Entry series. This is an alternate version of Yuri, and his Master is NOT the same person as in Re-Entry. If you’ve read Re-Entry, think of this as a slightly more laid-back version of Yuri.
> 
> (We have also nabbed Rillian with her permission <3 AND she was kind enough to comma wrangle for us. THANK YOU FLAMETHROWER!)

Jedi Master Yuri Dravaco sighed and slumped further into his seat. The waiting area at the Metellos shuttleport had damned uncomfortable chairs – not that he’d ever run into any _comfortable_ ones, at any spaceport.  At least he was heading home to the Temple, which brightened his mood some.  He’d spent long months mediating a labor dispute on Batorine, only to find that the losing side disapproved of his participation enough to sabotage his shuttle. No one had been seriously hurt, but taking painfully short hops between planets and systems had made for a very, _very_ long week and a half.

Yuri tugged the hood of his cloak down a little lower and considered taking an actual nap, rather than just appearing to, when something out of place caught his eye. He looked more closely at the constant motion of passengers going to and fro through the terminal.  He tensed, not daring to even breathe as he watched two figures strolling out of the building.

 _Yoda_. The old Jedi – only not so much anymore, was he? – was perched on the skinny shoulder of some humanoid with almost shoulder-length dark blond hair. Yuri waited to a count of five before standing and walking after them, struggling to keep to a sedate pace.  He tossed around the notion of just comming someone, informing the Council that his delay meant he’d also found Yoda, would they please send someone to deal with this? However, the possibility of finding out for himself just _what_ had happened a month ago…

No way was Yuri letting that chance pass him by. Bad enough he’d been out of system and out of touch weeks before it happened. No one had been able to say much over the com, with the reception as bad as it was out on Batorine.  The news coverage was less than helpful, with its exclusive focus on the Senate throwing a fit over Jedi killing the Supreme Chancellor.

As Yuri and his quarry wandered through the nearby market area, he could pick out more detail. The humanoid actually _was_ human, a teenage boy in tan clothes that looked rather shabby. He and Yoda seemed comfortable with each other, chatting casually about something – likely the merchandise around them. The boy was quite willing to turn and go where the former Jedi Master pointed, wandering from stall to stall until they slipped innocuously down an alley, fading into what had to be their intended destination from the beginning. Yuri hesitated, then broke into a jog, reaching the mouth of the alleyway mere moments after his quarry.

A dead end, empty except for some trash and wooden crates, brought him up short.

“Master Dravaco. Wish to speak to us, you do?” Yoda’s voice asked from behind him, and Yuri could have kicked himself for underestimating the former Jedi. _Yoda is Fallen, not stupid. That’s going to look good in the report_. _If I get to make a report._

“I do have a few questions,” Yuri admitted, heart hammering as he turned to face the diminutive ex-Jedi and the teenager. A teenager, he saw now, with a short tuft of a padawan braid sticking out from behind one ear. “Like where you found an Apprentice this quickly.” Neither of them had a weapon out.  So far, the three of them were just talking.  Yuri decided not to escalate the situation by pulling his lightsaber.

“It’s not like you lot wanted me,” the boy scowled as Yoda hopped from his shoulder onto a crate.

“A padawan young Skywalker should have been. A padawan he is now. Failed him, we did, when we sent him away. Fail him again, I will not.”

Skywalker? The kid involved with that Naboo business, who’d been taken into the Order even though he’d been too old? Yuri did some quick math and found that yes, the boy would have aged out by now.

“Sent to find us, you were?” Yoda asked, cocking his head. He didn’t act aggressive, but Yuri didn’t let himself forget that Yoda could obliterate him without so much as twitching a finger – and that had been before the old Master had Fallen.

To lie, or not to lie? Say he was on a mission, and he’d be implying that the Order would know if he disappeared and why. Say he wasn’t, and he’d be less of a threat, but more vulnerable. Also the chances that Yoda would be able to tell fact from fiction were pretty high.

“Just trying to get home after a mission, actually,” he confessed. “I was waiting on my flight when I saw you.”

Yoda hummed, tapping his chin. “Many questions, you have?

“Yes,” Yuri said, bewilderment starting to replace alarm. For an encounter with a Dark Jedi Master and his apprentice (padawan?), there was remarkably little bloodshed. Then again, the whole incident at the Senate was weird to the point of insanity, and watching the newsfeeds’ collection of security footage hadn’t made it make any more sense. He’d hoped that when he got back to the Temple someone would be able to decipher matters for him.

“Hmmm. Answer you while we travel, I will. Yes, yes,” Yoda chuckled.

“What?”

“Come with us, you will,” Yoda pronounced with a nod, standing up and gesturing for Skywalker to offer his shoulder again.

“Come with you? Where?” Yuri asked warily.

“Why, a lightsaber my padawan needs. To Ilum, we go,” Yoda said with a pleased look.

“To _Ilum?_ ” Yuri blurted out, eyes wide. “What if you run into more Jedi there?”

“Talk, if we can. Fight, if we must,” Yoda said, ears dipping at the second prospect.

“I’d rather fight,” Skywalker muttered mutinously. “Ow!”

Yoda lowered his gimer stick, having given the teen a light rap across the top of his head. “Our enemy, the Jedi are not.”

"I know, I know," Skywalker grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Doesn’t mean I have to like them."  He glanced over at Yuri.  "No offense."

 _This is going to be the best day ever._ Yuri sighed. _Heading to Ilum to help a Dark-user make a lightsaber. Oh, I’ve got a bad feeling about this._

* * *

One thing Tatooine had in common with Coruscant was pickpockets. This particular visit to Tatooine had come with one small Rodian youngling that seemed to think Rillian carried food or the treasures of the universe in her bandolier's pouch.  Ten attempts in, and the youngling had failed to even get the pouch open.  It was at least an amusing annoyance, and so far the highlight of her trip to Mos Espa.

She didn’t particularly like Tatooine as a whole, really.  Too much sand and sun. Much to her disgruntlement, she didn’t have much choice about her port. The AgriCorps worked on a shoestring budget most of the time, and what with the Senate being cranky about Chancellor Palpatine’s Jedi-assisted death, funds were not being approved in a timely manner. Yet food still had to be grown and shipped out to various Temples or places in need around the galaxy, which meant they had to find a way somehow.

AgriCorps or not, they were still Jedi. They would find a way. As disreputable as it was, the way seemed to involve carting ridiculous amounts of scrap out to Tatooine in exchange for loads of different scrap and some credits.

Rillian mostly hoped that she wasn’t somehow party to a strange smuggling operation – or that if she was, it was for a good cause.

The young Wookie glanced up from her datareader, wondering for the hundredth time if it wouldn’t be easier to drag around a translation droid instead.  Rillian came to an abrupt stop, her thoughts screeching to a similar halt.  She ignored the inept little pickpocket, who crashed into her legs before scampering off. The human man she'd spotted ambling down the street towards her was much, _much_ more important.

He was lean almost to the point of gauntness, with long grey hair he’d tied back into a partial tail. The dusty brown cloak he wore hid most of his frame, but he showed clear muscle in the arm holding several boxes of various sizes. He was staring down at a ’plast sheet, disgruntled frown creasing his face, as he avoided running into both pedestrians and local street urchins.

At last she understood why the Force had felt so blasted _odd_ today, with the sensation of – well – _snickering_ almost, as if the Force could giggle to itself. It had started when she’d landed the Order’s ship, raising her hackles, as she’d been unable to figure out _anything_ from the strange, swirling potential of the world around her.

Rillian had found Qui-Gon Jinn.  She'd never thought to run across the now infamous Dark Master, and most certainly not with the man doing something so mundane as _shopping_ , his face serious and intent as he squinted at a piece of flimsiplast.   She hesitated a moment, then lunged forward, tossing caution to the winds as she listened to the Force.

* * *

The small ship was nothing fancy. The paint was faded and scratched, and here and there mismatched exterior plates showed repairs. Inside was more of the same; everything in working order, but having seen long years of use.

Following Yoda’s lead, Yuri stowed his small duffel in the cramped, single cabin where two bunks took up most of the room. He had to squirm around the table that occupied most of what was left – whoever had owned this ship before Yoda and the skinny teen had gotten their hands on it, they couldn’t have been full sized humans.

At least there was room for the three of them in the cockpit, each of them taking a seat in the awkward silence. Yoda seemed content to leave the piloting to his padawan, despite the kid’s feet only just touching the ground when he was strapped back into the pilot’s chair.  The kid was quite competent though, handling the takeoff preparations smoothly even in the face of the uncomfortable atmosphere between the three of them.

It all seemed so prosaic to Yuri. Underwhelming, even – hardly a den of Darkness. He couldn’t imagine a Sith _or_ his apprentice having the patience to endure the spaceport’s excessively stupid take-off protocol, but Skywalker seemed to take it with wry good humor and some sharp sarcasm back at the controllers.

When at last hyperspace was streaking past them in smears of black and glowing blue, Master Yoda turned his attention to Yuri.

“Time we have now. Ask your questions you may.”

There wasn’t an easy or a safe place to start, and Yuri had been plotting various approaches since they’d left the alley. It wasn’t as if he could make small talk – anything he wished to know touched on the Dark side or the Sith or other sensitive subjects.

 _Best dive in deep as possible._ “How long were you slipping before you Fell, and why did no one ever see it?”

“A difficult question, that is.” Yoda frowned in contemplation. “For five years, sorrow, doubt, and fear refused to leave me. This did, and did not, lead to my use of the Dark side.”

It was an obscure response from the old Master, as usual. Yuri had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.  That would not be a wise move around Yoda, let alone a _Dark_ Yoda. Getting thwacked with a gimer stick was liable to be the least of his worries. “I don’t understand.”

“If questioning myself I had not been, reject the evidence given to me, I might well have. Opened the door, doubt and fear did, for new ideas to be considered.”

“You’re saying...you Fell out of fear? Fear of what? Death?” That didn’t seem right.  From all he’d heard Yoda was above such concerns. Yet what else could he be talking about?

Yoda shook his head. “Fear for the Jedi Order. Fear for the Republic.”

That _couldn’t_ be right. “Falling doesn’t work like that...Does it?” It went against everything he’d ever been taught.

“A Sith Master, Sidious was. The _Supreme Chancellor_ he was. Met with him many times, the Jedi Council had, and yet we sensed _nothing_.” Yoda tapped his stick hard against the chair.

It had gotten lost, somehow, in the rush of horrified panic, when Yuri had first heard the news: Yoda, resigned from the Order and Fallen; Yoda, Jinn, and their ally killing Palpatine; Palpatine exposed as a Sith. Yuri hadn’t stopped to think it through, not with the local mess he had on his hands that absolutely had to be dealt with right away. A Sith Master had been at the head of the entire Republic, his influence and control extending from one end of the galaxy to the other. Master Jedi had to have stood not two feet from him and never even suspected the truth. Yuri’s own Master had often met with the man when she was a Senate liaison. The _Council_ had had regular meetings with the man, and never suspected a thing!

Cold shock washed through him. It was one thing to know the Republic’s head politician was corrupted by the Dark side. It was altogether another to realize that the most powerful policy maker in the Republic had manipulated and fooled an entire temple full of Jedi, which itself was located not too far from the Senate, for _years_.

“Begin to see, you do.” Yoda nodded.

“But you could have...” Yuri started to say.  He trailed off, unable to think of anything that even Yoda could have done. Rally the Jedi? Accuse a beloved political figure of being a monster out of crecheling tales? Sacrifice dozens, hundreds against a political figure that would slaughter disbelieving Jedi like herd beasts?  Yuri himself still found it hard to believe, sometimes, and he’d seen footage of the actual fight.

Yuri’s head was spinning, but he still had to know. “But why _Fall_?”

“Myths and stories you perhaps have heard, of Jedi of old, who Fell when smothered too long in the Dark?”

“But those are only...stories...”

“Impossible it is, to be forced to Fall, when Fallen one already is,” Yoda said, voice gentle but certain.

Yuri shook his head. “You Fell...so that you wouldn’t Fall? I don’t –”

“Fell so that I would not be removed from the fight, I did. Better to have Fallen in safety, among friends, than through enemy action.” Yoda sat up a little straighter, his ears lifting a little. “Talented, Qui-Gon is, and much stronger than us our ally was, yet between them, our ally judged that they had not enough strength. Needed another they did.”

It was all rather too much, one blow after another that seemed like it might be reasonable, that it made _sense_ – Yuri latched on to the nearest point he could grasp. “Your ally. Who exactly _was_ that? I’ve heard him called a Fallen Jedi, a Grey Jedi, a Sith, but nobody seems to know for sure.”

“A Sith Lord, he was.”

“A– a _Sith Lord_? And you _allied_ with him?” Force, his head was spinning. Yuri knew there were vital bits of information he should be gleaning, but he was too busy trying to get his head around– 

He’d thought perhaps, at worst, a Sith apprentice, or lackey, or _something_ , but– 

How had _Yoda_ even gotten in range of the man, let alone ended up _working_ with him?

“Yes.” Force take it all, the old master sat there, serene as if they were sharing tea in some Temple garden. “Aided us, he did, though it brought him no gain, and great risk. Trust him we do, though gone beyond our reach he is.”

“Are you –” _No, do_ not _call Yoda crazy!_ “Why –” Yuri took several deep breaths, since asking why he’d done something so incredibly mad wasn’t much better. “Why ally with one Sith to kill another? The whole Rule of Two – what if your ‘ally’ was the Apprentice, did you think of that?”

Yoda nodded, looking like he might be proud of Yuri making that leap. “The Apprentice he was not. Known to us, the Apprentice was, and they have been dealt with. And if the Apprentice, our ally was, why move now? Why not wait until the galaxy was under the sway of his Master?”

“But Palpatine was already Chancellor, he was _already_ running the Republic, and he didn’t seem to be doing a bad job of it.”

Skywalker spun the pilot’s chair around to glare at Yuri. “Are you fucking _kidding_ me?” he demanded, following it with a string of what sounded like vitriolic Huttese. “You Jedi are karking _morons_.”

Yuri was not about to be intimidated by a teenager with far too much attitude. He could maintain at least that much composure. He glared back. “Excuse me?” He kept his tone as frosty as possible, but Anakin ignored the warning.

“The _Sith_ wasn’t doing _a bad job_? He was a _Sith_. Not a Jedi, not even some weird in between thing like us; a _Sith_! I’ve seen that up close and personal – I’ve had one try to kill me! One killed Qui-Gon’s padawan and that fucked him up for a long time! And that _was_ an Apprentice!”

The boy was almost vibrating in place, hands clenched tight into fists as he glared at Yuri. “You have _no idea_ what Darkness is, what it can do to you. It’s...it’s the power to have all your dreams on a silver platter, and all you want to do is wipe out everyone who gets in your way, even if they once had a place in those dreams! If Darkness is all you have, nobody and nothing means _anything_ other than potential obstacles or allies. It’s all about what _you_ want.”

“But – but you use the Darkness, that’s the same –”

“No it’s fucking not! _We_ are not! We’re not Jedi, and we’re not Sith. And if you think having a Sith running your stupid Republic wasn’t a bad thing then the entire Jedi Order can go to hell!” Anakin’s eyes blazed defiance at him. “Didn’t you pay _any_ attention to the crap you were supposed to learn as an Initiate?” he sneered. “The Sith want to _destroy_ the Jedi. They probably wouldn’t mind destroying anything important to them along the way like, oh I don’t know, the whole fucking _Republic_?”

That garnered a startled look from both of them. Yoda gave a thoughtful hum. Yuri looked between them, then shook his head. “Then why bother doing all the good works that Palpatine demonstrably _did_ do?” he asked, struggling to find a foothold in the boy’s tirade. “What possible purpose –”

Anakin broke in again, his voice quiet but hard. “The greater the height, the further you fall. The further the fall, the greater the destruction.” He looked at Yuri, and no matter how young this boy seemed, there was darkness hiding behind ancient eyes that had nothing to do with the Force. “The more you have, the more can be taken away from you, can be used against you.” Skywalker shook his head and looked away, finally composing himself with slow breaths.

After a long, solemn moment, Yuri cleared his throat. “You sound like you know a lot about it?” It could have been mocking, dismissive, but Skywalker seemed to understand he was asking with all honest intent. Yuri was beyond uncomfortable, but – _Jedi do not let themselves fear. They face it._

A long moment more, then Anakin’s face twitched into something that might be called a smile. “I spent my first nine years a slave. Then I joined the Jedi. Then I aged out.” He and Yoda shared a look, then Skywalker stood, chin high and meeting Yuri’s eyes without hesitation. “Excuse me.” His tone was cold. Yuri could almost feel the chill as the teen walked past him out of the room.

He and Yoda sat in an uncomfortable silence that kept growing worse.  At last Yuri took a deep breath and shook his head. “You know that’s not an answer, though.”

“Mmm.”

He looked up at the old Master. “You might as well say ‘Palpatine was a Sith, Sith do evil things, therefore all the things Palpatine did were evil,’ and that is _absurd_.”

“To best motivate others, both rewards and punishments are used. If some holodrama villain Palpatine was, and were he just to destroy and terrorize, then gain power, he would not. Follow him, none would. Yet lure others in, he did. Promises and power, he gave, enough good deeds to cover the bad. Fall all over themselves, the Senate did, to give him more power, for what they thought was their own benefit. Saw the rot underneath, none did.”

“ _Are_ you so certain there was rot?”

Yoda looked at him, gaze level and uncanny. “Know the Dark side, I do. Wild, it is. Full of passions and emotions, it is. Evil, it need not be.” He shook his head, ears swaying. “Felt Sidious unshielded, I did, and _evil_ it was. Sought to consume and destroy all, it did. Bad. Very bad. Certain of his malevolence, I am. Speak to Master Tholme, you might wish to, if you seek proof. Ask him to trace the roots of the unrest in the Senate of late.”

Yoda shifted, looking away. “A spy, the Jedi had in the Apprentice’s ranks for a time. Unclear it still is what the Sith were planning, but evidence there is of much chaos and destruction. Hope, I do, that it was stopped in time.”

They sat in heavier silence until Yoda broke it, shaking off the solemn mood to give Yuri an impish grin that was almost believable. “Of course, Dark side user I am, so trustworthy, I obviously am not.”

Yuri snickered. “I think I begin to see why you broke your vow to never take a Padawan again for this one.” He could well remember the solemn elder his own Master had tea with. Master Ehalla always returned in a downcast mood and grumbling that several decades ago Yoda had been far more chipper. The lack of pranks was an improvement, but all else... “He seems to be good for you.”

Yoda’s smile was far too innocent. “Qui-Gon’s good example, I am merely following.”

It was a relief to face something other than a relentless, angry stream of opinion from a teenager – no matter how many points that boy might have made– or Yoda’s endless questions and pointed comments. _Oh Force. That would mean –_ “There’s another one of you?” he yelped.

Yoda _cackled_. “Say that, I did not.”

That made no sense. The Rule of Two was – “Wait. You said the Sith Lord who helped you was out of your reach.” _“Much stronger than us our ally WAS” – he keeps speaking of the Sith in the past tense!_

“Gone, he is, and meet him again we will not.”

“He’s dead, you mean.”

Yoda glared at him. “Strange, is the Force. Only two states of being you think there are?”

Yuri groaned and placed his head in his hands. “This is why I never took lessons with you, Master Yoda.”

“To your detriment, that seems to be.”

Yuri took a breath, trying to both steady himself and find the loopholes that kept scrabbling out of his reach. “You never did say why you trust him, or at least trusted him enough to ally with him.” _Fall on his word_ , he thought, but didn’t dare say.

Intriguing. Yoda looked down at his cane and frowned. “He wanted nothing to do with us. Yet convince him to help us, Qui-Gon was able to, though our ally’s death it could have meant. In our hands, he knew his life might be, and indeed, at our mercy he was, several times." The cane rapped lightly against the chair. "We trusted him, Master Dravaco, because he trusted us.”

“It defies belief, you know.” Yuri shook his head. “I cannot understand how you could choose to _Fall_. You have always been the example to the Temple, the whole Order of what a Jedi should be!”

The old master sighed. “If call you a Jawa, I do, become one will you?” Yuri glared at him. “Fight the Sith, Jedi do. Names matter not, hmm?”

“That’s names, Master Yoda, not actions. Using our enemies’ tactics make us as bad as they are. We merely perpetuate the problem.”

“Yet our tactics, success had not brought.”

“Success is determined by _how_ things are done, not just the results! The ends do not justify the means!” Yuri hadn’t interacted much with the Grandmaster of the Order, but Yoda didn’t seem that different.  He didn’t act like an insane Fallen Jedi, either.  It seemed impossible that _Yoda_ could believe– Yuri blinked. “What am I missing?”

He got a smile that was proud and approving. “The Jedi achieve what ends with lack of Attachment?”

“Fairness. Equality. It is how to avoid favoritism, is it how we make sure we can be impartial. With Attachment, we cannot be trusted to approach all the same.” It was not a simple answer, but automatic. This was something _crèchelings_ learned.

“Hmm.” Yoda nodded slowly, in a way that Yuri did not trust in the least. “Natural for most beings, this Detachment is?”

“By that logic, we should be scampering around naked and weaponless.” He made a face. “I’d rather not, thank you.”

Yoda nodded again, this time fighting a grin. “Indeed. Thankful, the galaxy is of that. But. Who is best served, when care for those we protect, we do?”

“You know this better than I. Compassion does not mean care. No one is served by divided loyalties.”

Yuri found himself pinned by a glare. “Then if in battle, save the life of a Jedi you would, or a random passerby?”

 _What is he trying to do_? “All else being equal, the passerby.”

“All else being equal, hmm?  And if the Jedi were your Master?”

“I- ”  Yuri’s mouth was open, but he had no words.  The answer should have been easy – saving the life of an innocent should always take priority over another Jedi, who knew the dangers and accepted them, but if he were being honest with himself, Yuri had to admit…it would be his Master.

Yuri snapped his mouth shut. “Oh no. I have some work to do with Attachment, don’t I.” His voice was faint, weak.

Yoda shook his head. “An Attachment, the Order itself is. Weaker, perhaps, than some, yet Attachment still. Avoid this, we cannot, without a vital part of ourselves we remove.” The old master’s eyes were solemn, grieving. “Try as we might, hard it is.” Then he looked up, a fierce expression replacing the grief. “ _Wrong_ , I think it is.”

“But – you – I don’t understand.” Between the Skywalker kid and now this, he wasn’t just dizzy; he felt overwhelmed.

Yoda seemed thoughtful for a moment, then he looked away, his ears lowered. “Burn, fire does, and leaves ashes behind. Yet more growth, this allows, in time. Richer earth it creates. Ice...stable, and calm it is. Yet melt, it must. Otherwise, hidden under snow, life remains, small and secret, but thrive it never will.” Yoda looked him over, then nodded and hopped off the chair. “Tired of freezing, I am. Think on this, you should. Some rest would we benefit from, I think.”

“If...if it’s all right by you, I’ll just...” Yuri gestured vaguely to the controls, wondering if they would trust him to not pull the ship out of hyperspace and turn them back to Coruscant or something. Yoda, however, smiled in approval. Yuri got a pat on the knee before the old master slipped out the door, leaving him alone with some very strange thoughts.

* * *

Qui-Gon sighed and looked down again at the shopping list Shmi had given him. He had a few of the many items she wanted, but this was Mos Espa, her former home – she was particular not just about what she wanted, but who he was expected to purchase it from. Admitting that he needed obscure parts that weren’t available in Anchorhead had perhaps not been his brightest idea. He sighed again and scrubbed his face. Very little had been going as planned lately. He was glad that Yoda and Anakin felt confident enough to venture off-planet, and Anakin _did_ need a lightsaber.

He was, however, surprised at how resentful he felt at Yoda taking charge of the trip. A part of him kept wanting to protest that Anakin was _his_ padawan, therefore he should be the one responsible for all that entailed.

Absurd. It was clearly his Attachment going haywire, which was one of the reasons he’d been willing to let them get away with this _farce_ of – 

 _Oh, fuck, I’m doing it again._ Qui-Gon shoved the list into a pouch to rest his face in his spare hand for a moment. Anakin’s language was flat out abysmal, and worse, contagious. A few deep breaths, and while he still felt disgruntled, at least he was a little bit more stable.

[Excuse me, are you taking padawans?]

Qui-Gon’s head whipped around. He stared at the Wookiee who stood before him, hands clasped and an eager expression on her face.  She was female, probably not yet two decades of age, with silver and black fur, and the feel of a trained Force-sensitive.

“Not when I’m out shopping, no.” He hefted his packages, trying to be subtle about scanning the area for Jedi, bounty hunters, or possibly armed Senate flunkies.  He'd worried that this would happen. Only Coruscant was officially off-limits to the Fallen Jedi, but given a month to stew, Qui-Gon wouldn't put it past either the Senate or the Jedi Order to decide that they'd rather remove the threat – and the public-relations nightmare – entirely

There was a moment of awkward silence, then the Wookiee ducked her head a little. [Er, sorry, I don’t know why-  I mean. Hello!] She cleared her throat, looking rather bashful. [My name is Raallandirr. I was hoping I could talk to you?]

She was sincere, not attempting a distraction.  He could feel the polite eagerness curling behind solid mental shields, but no artifice.  Also, ‘Raallandirr’ had been one of the names Venge had mentioned. One of the very beings Venge had thought might be a decent ally had found _him._ He wasn’t sure which factor was more of a punch to the gut.

Qui-Gon looked down at the packages he held and took a deep breath. “Er, good morning, Raallandirr.” he finally managed. “To what do I owe this honor?”

She bared her fangs in a polite smile. [Curiosity, mostly.   I didn’t think I’d run into either you or Master Yoda, and I couldn’t pass up the chance.]

“The Force works in mysterious ways.” Qui-Gon couldn’t help the wry tone, nor the face he made, but the Wookiee let out an appreciative huff of laughter.

[I’ll say.] Raallandirr shook her head. [Sorry for jumping at you.]

He chuckled and resettled the boxes he was holding, smiling at the Wookiee as she took several off his hands before they hit the ground _again_. “Thank you. However, I’m afraid I already have a padawan.”

[...oh.] She looked down, wilting a bit from the confident young Wookiee to someone who was still a youngling.

“I’m sorry, Raallandirr – ”

[Rillian is fine.] He was surprised that she had a genuine, albeit strained smile for him. [I appreciate you taking on the mouthful, but it’s faster for everyone if it’s shortened.] She chuffed another laugh. [I’m used to it.]

He could feel that she was, and that she was also regaining her emotional stability from his refusal. It had been... _important_ to her. “Hm. Walk with me, Rillian?”

* * *

Anakin came yawning out of the cabin and clinging to a mug of tea like it was his only tether to humanity. He waved blearily at Yuri, stopped with a foot past the doorway to stand still for a moment, then took a sharp turn back into the galley. He returned a few minutes later, clutching another steaming mug. He stepped up to Yuri, then looked down at the mugs as if mystified by them both.

The Jedi took the fuller one – steaming a little more, and not in the boy’s primary hand. “Thank you.”

Skywalker grunted and sat in the pilot’s seat.

It was odd, sitting and sharing a civilized cup of tea with someone Yuri suspected did not like him in the least. If his use of the Force was accurate, there was nothing unusual or off about the tea – it felt the same as what was in Skywalker’s mug, though perhaps with a little less biological traces.

Kid hadn’t even spit in his mug. Yuri couldn’t decide if that made him like the kid more, or just left him more disgruntled with himself for suspecting it in the first place.

By the time Skywalker’s mug was empty, he was looking far more human, and scowling down at the ship’s controls. “Thanks for taking the helm,” he declared out of the blue.

“It wasn’t for the whole time. I napped a bit.”

“Well, at least someone was keeping an eye on things.” Anakin made a face. “Dunno if this counts as a shakedown flight or not, but the prior owners weren’t too big on order or cleanliness.” Then Skywalker stopped and blinked at him. “Shit, you were – these chairs probably _suck_ to sleep in.”

“It’s not so bad when your feet reach the floor.”

Kid gave a wry snort before giving him the finger and turning back to examine the control panel. He let Yuri sit and rotate his mug for a while, but when he drained it and set it in a console recess, Skywalker cleared his throat. “I thought Yoda was going to keep you company?”

“He did, for a while. We talked.”

“He make your brain bleed?”

“Quite,” Yuri declared in as dry a tone as he could. Skywalker made a sympathetic noise, then seemed to realize Yuri was watching him.

“Seriously. What’s going on?” Anakin spun the chair a little, sending a quick, strange look over at one of the dials.

“I...never interacted with Yoda much.” It was hard, admitting that to a teenager, a virtual stranger who was far stranger than Yuri was ever used to dealing with.

“Yeah, and?”

“I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Like what?” The kid’s eyes were sharp, like he knew exactly what Yuri had noted but wanted confirmation.

“...Spry?...Enthusiastic?”

“Happy?” Anakin met his eyes, brow raised. When Yuri couldn’t even sputter out a retort, the kid just turned back to the controls. He frowned, pounding a fist on a particular panel. “Piece of bantha crap. Why idiots don’t bother with fucking maintenance...” The teen slipped out of the chair, propping himself against the seat while snapping open a panel and starting to do Force knew what to the wiring within. Yuri wasn’t sure if he should be reassured that the kid looked like he knew what he was doing.

“So, what’s it like for you?”

“Being happy? That would be – oh fuck me sideways, what the _hell_ kind of spiceheads wired this?” The grumbling kid almost dove into the wiring space. Yuri winced and pulled back a little at a series of sparks and pops that made an uncomfortable amount of the dials and readouts in the cabin go dark. After a few more grumbling moments, most of them had been relit, Anakin was no longer in the wiring compartment up to his shoulders, and the boy seemed to have forgotten the question he’d been asked.

“What’s it like being Yoda’s Padawan? He and Jinn didn’t, well, _force_ you to –”

Anakin stopped and glared up at him, wearing a ferocious scowl that seemed far too old for him. “The _fuck_ do you get off talking about – _No._ And isn’t it a little late for _you_ to be worrying about that, Jedi?” For a teenager, Anakin seemed disturbingly comfortable wearing the glower as he went back to the wiring.

“Not being a Jedi doesn’t mean the Order wouldn’t care about what happened to you.”

“Oh, fuck off.” It was said without any heat, the scowl fading as Skywalker’s Force presence went from outraged and defensive to a more worn, still-healing wounded. “I _aged out_ , you moron. I did a damn good job going from being that kid who came to the Temple too late to a solid Initiate who passed his trials and was ready to be a Padawan. But none of you wanted me _then_.”

Yuri really disliked that these two kept leaving him in the middle of uncomfortable silences without a single blasted clue as to how to retort. He felt as if there should be _some_ reasonable response to these crazy things they had to say – but he was even more concerned that it seemed reasonable enough. Well, if one accepted that the Dark wasn’t evil.

“No,” Skywalker grumbled at last, still glaring down at the wiring in his hands. “Master Yoda and Master Jinn didn’t twist my arm. I kinda surprised them with – you know. Wanting to be involved.” He did something to the wires and efficiently tucked the now neat bundle back into the compartment, closing the panel without any problems. Everything in the cabin seemed to be lit and working, so perhaps the teen _did_ know some of what he was doing.

Anakin hopped back into the pilot’s seat, gave the panels a professional once over and nodded. “Much better.” Yuri wasn’t about to admit he couldn’t see any difference. “Hey.”

Yuri blinked at the break in the silence and looked over. Anakin was hunched over a little, not looking at him. “When you were an Initiate, did you know you were supposed to be a Jedi?”

He stared, wondering how the teen could possibly be opening up after Yuri had so thoroughly put his foot into his mouth. “Well, yes? Doesn’t every Initiate feel that?”

“Feel it, or know it? Like, do you feel it, or does the Force tell you something?”

Yuri chewed on that for a moment. “I like to think the Force was telling me that I was taking the right path.”

“Yeah.” Skywalker nodded, shoulders going back a little. “I knew it, too. The Force told me. And then I aged out.” He frowned down at one of the dials, reaching out to run his fingers over the readout. “When they first showed up, I hated them. They’d been a part of – I felt like the Jedi let me down, and they were two of the ones most responsible for it. But...I got over it. The Force never once stopped telling me I should be using it, even though I tried really hard to stop listening to it. When Master Jinn asked me if I wanted to...well.” He stopped frowning, instead gaining a distant, soft look. “I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

Yuri tried. In the Force, the kid almost vibrated with happiness, contentment. He really tried to just leave it alone, and let that joy sit. He managed to keep his mouth shut long enough for the boy to shake his head and go back to the instruments.

“You’re supposed to be using the Dark side of the Force?”

He was a little surprised that instead of blowing up at him again, Skywalker seemed amused when he looked over. “I do have a knack for it.”

“Well, if every warlord used that excuse, I’m sure many a slaughter would be much more reasonable.”

Anakin _snickered_. “Or they could’ve become a bounty hunter, and used it as a genuine skill for others. Or an exterminator, for that matter. Good at slaughter? Get rid of pests! There’s an honorable profession.”

“You’re making light of –”

“Watch your puns.”

Yuri glared, not that it seemed to do any good. He did not appreciate in the least how Skywalker seemed to take pity on him, turning to sling an arm on the back of the chair. “Look. If you have skills, they can be used for the Light side, or the Dark side. Just because it’s easy to use it for the detriment of people doesn’t mean you _have_ to.”

“You think everything is capable of being good or evil?”

“Oh this is going to be fun. What’s your counterpoint?”

“Tell me a good application of slavery.”

Anakin’s face hardened, then he looked away. For a moment, his expression was mulish, juvenile, but that didn’t take long to became sad. “Ok, good shot. That is a hard one.” He took a deep breath and met Yuri’s eyes. “There are people out there who are protected by that...system.” He almost sneered when he said it, a flicker of something hard and cruel flashing across his face. “If they were free, but that poor, they would be prey to any bully who comes along. Since they’re property, they’re protected from casual abuse and mistreatment – even if that’s just because those kriffing assholes are worried about having to pay some owner’s fines.” His jaw worked for a moment, then his glare intensified. “Does my answer pass inspection, _Master_ Dravaco?”

Yuri bowed his head. “For what it’s worth, _I_ would not have been able to come up with an answer. Master Yoda seems to have chosen his Padawan well.”

Skywalker seemed to search his face for any sign of mockery before unbending enough for a wry little smile. “I’ll make sure to tell him that. Thanks.”

Yuri’s hand was flying up and catching a small projectile before he quite realized the Force was telling him that something was incoming. He stared for a moment at the ration bar that had been hurtling towards his head, then at a grumpy Yoda standing in the doorway.

Yoda gave him a narrow-eyed look, then harrumphed and tossed another ration bar to Anakin. To, not at. The old master turned his glare back at Yuri. “Unfair question, that was.”

Yuri blinked and looked over at Anakin, who appeared as confused as he was. When the teen shrugged a tiny bit, Yuri cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

“A talent, slavery is not. Actions those are. If debate this you will, then proper questions you should ask.” With another harrumph, Yoda turned and headed out of the cockpit.

 _...Oops._ He glanced over at Anakin, relieved that the boy looked as chagrined as he felt. “My apologies. I wasn’t trying to fool you.”

Skywalker gave a quick shake of the head. “I should’ve seen that. Lesson learned. So try making your point again.”

It took an astonishing amount of control not to gape. This _kid_ was not only willing to concede the point, but to continue the – argument? Debate?

Yuri cleared his throat. “Let’s go back to killing.” He ignored the smirk. “Bounty hunters don’t always kill their targets, so what use is a talent for killing people?”

“Jedi.” The kid’s voice was dry as dust. “Sure, you need to be Force sensitive, and you should learn the diplomatic shit too, but the lightsabers aren’t for decoration or handy torch alternatives. _And_ if you don’t like that, then a soldier, or a guard. You kill people to keep your employer safe.”

“Torture.” Force help him, he was starting to enjoy matching wits with this kid. Skywalker had an unconventional view, and he didn’t agree with it, but it was intriguing nonetheless.

Anakin leaned back, squinting up at the ceiling for a moment. Then he made a face. “There’s got to be someone decent out there that sometimes needs answers. It’s probably not a common or easy thing to find, but I’m sure it’s out there. And, well...” He hesitated, giving Yuri a slow, cautious look. Then he shrugged. “You...do realize that some people like that sort of thing, right?”

He blinked. Some people liked – He blushed. “Yes, I – you’re how old – how do _you_ know –”

“Grew up on Tatooine. Grew up a slave. Any other questions?”

“How the hell did you learn to be that blasé?”

“Grew up on Tatooine.” Anakin grinned. “Tell you what. This bucket’ll be fine for a while. You want something fun to see, Yoda should have finished his ration bar, so he’s probably meditating by now.”

Why the kid would find that ‘fun’ was beyond Yuri, but the boy scampered past him with a genuine grin that for once looked right on the face of someone his age. Yuri followed him through the cabin and into the cargo hold.

Yoda was indeed seated in the middle of the empty room, hands on knees and eyes closed. He was meditating. Yuri couldn’t see a single thing unusual about this, but Anakin was grinning. Then the grin spread, getting touches of a smirk as – 

Why the _hell_ would Yoda look disgruntled during meditation? One of the purposes of it was to let go of emotions and petty problems. Yoda sat there looking increasingly grumpy, until Anakin started snickering.

That provoked a growl from the old master, who opened his eyes and mock glared at the boy. “Amusing, this is not.”

“Amusing, this always is,” Skywalker retorted with a grin. “You’ll get it one of these days. Then you get to mock me about how it dominates your life.” Yoda harrumphed as Anakin strolled over, dropping down in a meditation position behind him. They sat back to back, the human still grinning, and Yoda looking right at Yuri.

“Learning new skills I am,” Yoda grumped at his baffled expression. “Need help to start I sometimes do.”

“He _is_ getting better at it.” The shit-eating grin dimmed a little as Anakin closed his eyes. Yuri almost jumped as he could _feel_ Darkness gather in the room, coalescing around Skywalker. The boy was still grinning as he reached out of the Dark side, summoning it around him as an almost visible presence of _power_ with such ease and swiftness that it was a shock.

 _Blasphemy!_ Yuri’s mind screamed, his body poised to pull his lightsaber and deal with the Order’s ancient opposition as a Jedi should. Yuri was not entirely sure how he managed to stop himself even as Anakin’s Darkness _swarmed_ over to Yoda, surrounding him, and that somehow sparked more Darkness. Less than three meters away from him, there were now two sources of what at any other time in his life he would have called unmitigated evil.

One of those sources was _Yoda_. He sat back to back with Anakin, the two still in a meditative posture. The Darkness surrounding them seemed to settle and even out, that which came from Yoda almost focused, clearly controlled. Skywalker’s Darkness seemed to mimic those limits, settling from a powerful cloud to a more contained shroud around him.

“Hurt you we will not.” Yuri jumped a little as Yoda spoke, eyes still closed. “Contained our Darkness is, and our ally you are. Nothing to fear have you.”

Much to his chagrin, Yuri realized he _was_ afraid. He was in all essence stuck in a tin can with two Dark users. This no longer seemed like anything close to a good idea.

“I’ll...leave you to it, then.” He retreated back to the cockpit as the default location furthest away from the two, settling himself into the co-pilot’s seat with a groan before trying to release his wayward emotions into the Force.

That would have gone better if he hadn’t been able to feel the continued power of the Dark side pulsing in the cargo area. It was strange – not quite reassuring – that it remained well-controlled, a new and very uncomfortable presence in the ship. For all that it was not actively intrusive, neither seductive nor overwhelming as he had always thought the Dark side would be.

He tried to ignore it, first by checking to make sure the ship was running as smooth as possible – it was – and then by pulling out a datareader – nothing useful there. When the Darkness gracefully subsided, it was almost as much of a shock as when it had appeared. Yuri blinked and sat up a little straighter, bracing himself for what was bound to be more contentious arguments.

After a few minutes of nothing happening, he ventured back to the cargo bay. When the door opened, he stared at Yoda and Anakin, back to back, still meditating. There wasn’t a whisper of the Dark side to be felt. They were just...meditating, as if everything were normal, as if they were actual Jedi.

Yuri had never felt quite so confused before. Anakin looked up and met his eyes, then glanced over at Yoda. He shrugged and stood, padding over to the door and pushing Yuri out into the main cabin. The door whooshed shut and Skywalker rolled his shoulders. “Sorry, that went on a little longer than I meant to. He can do that for kriffing _hours_.” The look he sent back towards the door was a strange combination of admiration and disbelief. “What’s up?”

“I...nothing. That...what _was_ that?”

“Meditation. Don’t tell me you haven’t done that before.”

“Stop baiting me, Force take it!” Yuri was a little surprised at the outburst, blinking and pulling back a little. Skywalker maintained the little smirk and shrugged.

“Then stop asking dumb questions.” Then the little brat _waited_.

Yoda had picked his padawan _far_ too well. Yuri took a few moments to breathe, struggling to regain his composure. “Why...why alternate like that?”

“’Cause they’re both useful?” Skywalker shrugged and perched on the table. “Look. Qui-Gon has this whole spiel about Light and Dark in all of us, all of nature and everything it encompasses. Both sides are part of the natural world. Once you get past all that? We’re after a balanced approach. Light _and_ Dark. Different sides have different benefits.”

“Even to _meditation?_ ”

“Wow, make it sound like we’re torturing your favorite pet.” Skywalker crossed his arms, but remained calm – calmer than Yuri, which was annoying. “Yes, even meditation. You don’t stretch before doing hard work, you’re likely to injure yourself. You do that with the Dark side, and it’s other people who suffer for it.”

“You’re quite enthusiastic about this balance thing, aren’t you.”

“And the whole ‘not fucking up others’ thing, yeah. Sorry, do the Detached Jedi not practice that anymore?”

Yuri rubbed his thumb against a brow, struggling to find composure anywhere he could. “Does meditation _always_ make you this antagonistic?”

“Nah, that’s all natural.”

Yuri _giggled_. Some of it was obviously stress, but Force take it, he didn’t know if he liked the kid or wanted to strangle him. “Force. Fine.” He shook his head. “He really can’t do that on his own?”

“Find his Darkness? Nope.” The brat’s grin was fond, for all the impishness. “He’s managing almost half the time now. Lots better than when he started.”

Yuri snorted and shook his head. “I assume the contact makes it easier?”

“Yeah.” Odd. Skywalker’s shrug was too casual, his reply too swift. Yuri raised a brow, somehow managing to not cross his arms for a scolding look like his Master had inflicted on him many a time. Skywalker looked at him, an increasingly mulish expression on his face, then he looked away and shrugged again. “Starting and stopping. It helps with both.”

“More balance?”

“Oh shut it. Yoda wants me cooperating with you. I don’t have to, you know.”

Yuri let his expression go normal. “My apologies.”

 “Yeah, well. Closeness like that – It’s not half bad just as meditation.”

Yuri blinked. “I can’t imagine it,” he admitted. “It seems rather intrusive.”

Anakin’s emotions stopped jangling quite so much, settling back to the more sedate peace and rightness he’d had before. “Why? At the Temple we’re encouraged to go out to the gardens to meditate.”

“Yes, but everyone spreads out and gives each other space.”

“If we’re all one in or with the Force, why does it matter if we’re surrounded by trees or people?” That was patently ridiculous. Yuri tried to wrap his mind around – that wasn’t the same thing at all!

Anakin either ignored his confusion or didn’t see it. “And it’s...nice. Then you know – you can _feel_ someone else being there. I guess it helps with the Attachment thing.” Skywalker gave him a wry grin. “Which I guess is one of the reasons Jedi might avoid it.” He shrugged. “Either way, it’s just the three of us, so we’re doing what we damn well please, and it’s nice sharing meditation like that. Being alone –” The teen looked away, and his presence in the Force turned frosty again. “That _does_ lead to the Dark side, and not the useful parts.”

He sounded sad, and as if he was speaking from experience.

Once again, Yuri had no idea what to say.

* * *

Rillian found Qui-Gon to be both a fascinating and strange conversationalist. She couldn’t quite figure out what to make of a former Jedi-turned-Sith now turned part-time moisture farmer, but it was surprisingly easy to chat about their respective lives. He seemed curious enough about her background, without being nosy or obnoxious. By the time they’d left his pile of packages at a hotel and ventured forth again, she felt as comfortable around him as any of the new AgriCorp recruits that drifted across her path any particular day. He was open about the fact that he used the Dark side, that he and Yoda were experimenting with a combination of the Light and Dark sides of the Force.

Rillian was chewing on that – along with a skewer of what smelled like womp rat and some local fruit that Qui-Gon had bought, one for each of them. [Is it strange, going from being a Jedi to this kind of hybrid approach?]

“I’ve spent the last few years learning from a full-fledged Sith. This makes for a lovely change.” He grinned wryly at her and took a bite of from his skewer, stepping around a small cluster of haggling Jawas. “Just one of the many reasons you may wish to reconsider your request to become my padawan. I am not...the Jedi I used to be.”

Asking if Qui-Gon Jinn was looking for a padawan had just kind of fallen out of her mouth, but at the same time, she wasn’t exactly hurrying to correct the Fallen Jedi’s misconception.  In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she was inclined to think her subconscious was smarter than her, sometimes. [Well, technically _neither_ of you are Jedi anymore, right? I mean, everyone knows Master Yoda resigned.]

“They’re still being that polite about it?” Qui-Gon muttered before taking a rather vicious bite of mystery meat.

[In public, yes.] She grinned at him. He was straightforward and there was no grandstanding – it made a refreshing change from the stuffier Jedi she’d had to deal with of late.

“Their restraint is admirable.”

She chuffed at the dry tone. [I think part of it is the idea of a unified front. The Senate isn’t very happy with the Jedi right now.]

“Yes...yes, we’ve heard about some of that. The new restrictions...”

Rillian sighed and shook her head, glaring off at the noisy cantina they were passing. The Senate was not pleased with the Jedi. They had moved with remarkable, almost unheard of swiftness to limit any potential chaos they thought the Jedi might cause in their next move to –

Well, who knew what the Senate thought the Jedi were going to do. Rillian suspected that they thought it involved mass slaughter of planetary representatives, but she hadn’t cared enough to find out if anyone actually _knew_. Jedi travel had become limited, and had to be conducted with Senate approval – so far, that meant an extra set of papers that needed to be stamped when leaving a spaceport, which wasn’t much worse than the current customs hassle. More concerning was the vague talk of supervisors, Senate sanctioned beings who would somehow be keeping an eye on the Order. Since that was just a rumor, and it might mean less delay on the travel forms, she’d decided to ignore that too.

[It’s not your fault,] she finally declared. [Politics are stupid.]

“Well.” Qui-Gon cleared his throat and made a wry face. “It rather _is_.” He grinned at her, then sobered. “Rillian – Raallandirr. Why would you even wish to become my padawan?”

Well, that certainly put her on the spot.  Why was she so ready to run away from the AgriCorps?  Not that she wanted to be there but…wait, no, that was exactly why.  [Because the Force keeps telling me I should be one.] She shrugged and took another bite of meat. Yes, probably womp rat. [It’s been telling me that since I can remember. But I aged out without a Master picking me, or finding a Master that seemed to fit. So, I suppose I want to be your padawan because there aren’t any other choices.] She looked down at her skewer of meat. [I guess that’s not very noble.]

“There might be other choices.” Master Jinn declared softly. “I’ve heard that there are Force-users on Dathomir, the Nightsisters. They might take you in.”

She wrinkled her nose. [At least some of them use the Dark side though, right?]

“So do we, Rillian.”

[Yes, but _they_ didn’t use it to kill a Sith Lord. You did.]

Qui-Gon raised a brow and gave her quite the skeptical look before ruining it with another bite of food. “And what makes you think we’re not Sith? After all, that’s how the Sith operate – the Apprentice kills the Master.”

[Now you’re just being hypothetical,] she scoffed. [You’re not a Sith.]

He tried very poorly to hide a grin as he pretended to wipe his mouth. “And how do you know that?”

[Because, because you’re _not_. Sith don’t live with moisture farmers or pick up packages for other people when they go into town. Sith don’t humor aged-out Jedi initiates or – or buy them mystery-meat on a stick.] She waved her meal at him defiantly.

He ignored that with great dignity. “Everyone thought Sidious was a good man, though.”

Rillian worked her way through another chunk of meat as she considered that. [I only have my own opinion. And I say you’re not a Sith. Besides, I’ve watched that fight. At the end, Yoda stood up for you. Yoda doesn’t stand up for bad people.]

Master Jinn looked away and cleared his throat. “I, ah, I see.”

She could see that he was touched by that, a bit uncomfortable, yet appreciative.

Qui-Gon took a deep, bracing breath. “Rillian, why are you comfortable with the idea of using the Dark side? That is, after all, a necessary step along this path. The Order forbids its use, and with good reason. It is dangerous.”

Master Jinn stopped and looked at her. “I use it, and in case no one has said so, let me make it clear:  to step away from the Light side of the Force is to follow a path of pain, fear. Anger. How do you justify, even if just to yourself, embracing that?”

[It’s easy to see how this could end badly. Everyone seems to think that’s inevitable. Except for you, and Master Yoda. There’s got to be good reason for that. Somehow, you’re making it work.]

Rillian grinned at him. [You’re saner than some of the Masters I’ve worked with, and a _lot_ saner than some of the merchants! I don’t think they were using the Dark side.] Rillian looked down at her stick, twirling it between her fingers for a moment before tossing it away. [I think I’m not where I belong. This is a gamble, but aren’t most things in life? Being a Jedi isn’t safe, either, though that’s more people trying to kill you than accidentally blowing yourself up. Being in the AgriCorp is relatively safe.] She was a little surprised at how determined she _did_ feel, but –

Force, it felt right. She straightened her shoulders and began walking again. [I know which option I’d pick, given a choice. Since I might have a choice here and now? Yes, it’s worth the risks. If it turns out I don’t belong here either? I’m pretty sure you’ll let me go wherever it is I should go to.]

Qui-Gon watched her for a long, painful moment, then he smiled. “Well. As I said, I already have a padawan –”

[Can’t you have two?]

“No, I –” Rillian slowed to a halt as Qui-Gon stopped and blinked. “I _was_ going to say that’s not the Jedi way, but...I suppose we’re not Jedi anymore. It’s also not the Sith way, but that might in fact be a reason to investigate the matter more closely.”

He glanced away, running a hand along his jaw. “I was _also_ going to say I’d speak with Yoda, as he doesn’t have a padawan.” He smiled over at her. “So that makes matters a little different.”

[So...?] She tried to keep her tone neutral and casual.

From his smile, she didn’t succeed quite as well as she hoped. “So, you will need to complete at least this mission for the AgriCorps – it is your responsibility. But if you return here after that...well, I suppose I can at least give you some refresher lessons until Yoda gets back.”

Rillian whooped and hugged him, ignoring the startled, almost cornered look he had before cautiously trying to return it. She was going to be a padawan!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Flamethrower for a thorough beta! <3!

Yuri had forgotten Ilum was so blasted cold. He snugged deeper into the spare cloak that Yoda had been happy to lend him, trying to remind himself that he was getting useful information and that all this was worthwhile.

Force, it was cold. Yuri hurried down the shuttle’s ramp, grinning a little as Skywalker emerged and immediately started squeaking out the foulest language he’d heard from the boy yet. The stream of profanity came to an abrupt, suspicious halt; Yuri had to find out what the blazes had caused the silence. He turned to find Skywalker standing on the edge of the ramp, glaring with paranoid intensity at the snow before him.

“Everything alright?”

“Shut up, I’m desert-born. Coruscant doesn’t _do_ snow, and this is my first time. Shut up-shut up-shut up.”

Well, Yuri hadn’t been inclined to snicker _before_ , but now it was a bit of a struggle. He folded his arms inside his cloak sleeves, grateful that Master Yoda had already scampered off the landing pad and through the small door set in a cliff wall. “It doesn’t support your weight–”

“I _know_ , okay? Temple training covered this. Shiiiiiit.” Anakin stepped forward and yelped as his boot sank into the snow. “Oh, holy _fuck_ that is weird coming through!” He raced past Yuri, who couldn’t swear the kid didn’t use the Force to speed himself along.

Yuri couldn’t help it. He sniggered.

He hurried after the others, ducking inside and shutting the door behind him. They were in a small antechamber, quite defensible while presenting a pleasant enough facade for visitors. Yoda was blithely chatting with a respectful, older human Jedi in warm robes, while Anakin was trying to fluff snow off his clothes.

“It crunches,” Skywalker was grumbling half under his breath. “Why does it _crunch;_ it’s _water_.” He hopped from foot to foot, trying to discreetly kick snow off his boots. “Water doesn’t _crunch_.”

Yuri coughed in an attempt to hide his laugh. “Think of it as fluffy ice. You’re familiar with–?”

“ _Yes._ ” Yuri received an indignant glare before the boy turned away. “Fluffy ice,” Anakin muttered. “Argh. This place _sucks_.”

Yuri tried to not sound like he was having a coughing fit. Yoda either sensed what was going on, or had spectacular timing. “Padawan!” he called out. “Meet Master Trivin, you should!”

The local Jedi nodded to Skywalker, who trotted over and managed quite the respectable bow. “It is an honor to meet you, Padawan Skywalker. I must say, I’m stunned – I thought Master Yoda had sworn off padawans for at least another decade.”

Yoda harrumphed and thumped his gimer stick against the floor. “If stunned by that you are, slow must the news be to arrive here.”

Trivin frowned at Yoda, and Yuri had to squelch an uneasy flutter in his stomach. Could they really have found someplace even more remote and out of touch than Batorine? Wouldn’t Mace and the Council have spread word–

–that Yoda had Fallen, and left the Order. No, there probably wasn’t much reason for that when the newsfeeds had been screaming it enough that even Yuri had noticed from the depths of political negotiations. _Oh dear_.

“I’m...sorry?” the man asked.

“Not as much as you’re going to be,” Skywalker muttered, just loud enough for Yuri to hear.

Yoda sighed, ears drooping a bit. “Left the Order, I have. Involved in some...political turmoil I might have been, when leaving.”

“But–” Master Trivin sputtered, looking over at Anakin.

The boy grinned ruefully. “Not a Jedi padawan, sorry. Aged-out initiate who got taken on by a former Jedi.” He seemed remarkably proud of that, but not quite as defiant as Yuri would expect.

“I– I see.” Master Trivin looked over at Yuri, and his expression was half-accusatory.

“What? No, I’m–” Yuri tried to collect himself. “I ran across Master Yoda on their trip here. I’m merely traveling with them for a time.”

“Ah.” Master Trivin nodded slowly. “Well. This... _does_ explain a few things, but I’m afraid it complicates them rather a lot.” He looked at Yoda in apology. “Master Yoda, I do apologize, but I’m not authorized to gift our crystals to outside parties.” He shook his head. “I cannot believe I’m saying this,” he muttered, before resuming a more normal tone. “While we might _sell_ to outside parties, we cannot simply give them to you, or your...padawan.”

Damned if Yoda didn’t _grin_ the evil smirk of a Sabacc champion who knew exactly how all the other players were cheating. He pulled several credit chips from his robes and presented them to Trivin. “Credits, we have, and quite willing to spend them, we are!”

Yuri wasn’t sure he’d seen credit chips in denominations that large before. From the wide-eyed look on Trivin’s face, neither had he. “What Banking Guild did you take over?” the master sputtered. As Yoda cackled and Skywalker giggled, Trivin somehow regained his aplomb. “I’m sorry, I– this is– this will be more than adequate to cover your padawan’s crystal.”

“More than one, I seek. Prepared for future accidents, I wish to be, so without a lightsaber we will not be. Negotiate we can while Padawan Skywalker goes in search of a crystal.”

Trivin bowed to Yoda, but when he stood he had an apologetic look upon his face. “I look forward to that, and hearing what sort of misadventures you have been up to. Unfortunately, we have a group of padawans already set to go in search.”

“Then wait our turn, we shall.” Yoda seemed serene enough at that, and Trivin bowed his head in acknowledgement touched with sheepish gratitude.

“Please follow me, then. They should have entered the caverns by now, and cutting through the main chamber is the fastest way to a more comfortable waiting area.”

Yoda was already shaking his head, a gentle smile Yuri didn’t trust a bit on his face. “No, no, the full experience Padawan Skywalker should have. If through the main chamber we go, then the front entrance we should use!” He _cackled_ , and Skywalker was looking at him with unabashed horror.

“That means back in the snow, doesn’t it. You are the cruelest master _ever_.”

Yoda just giggled and declared something Yuri didn’t understand, but Skywalker knew the language from the way he cracked up.

It was possible Trivin did as well, given the scandalized look he wore. The local master shook his head and led the way out of the antechamber, moving at a stately pace Yoda could match. Skywalker trudged behind them with an expression somewhere between morose and morbid fascination, staring at the ground the whole time.

Yuri trailed behind them, wondering if he ought to pull Master Trivin aside and have a few words with the man before Yoda...what? Before Yoda lied? Why would he? He certainly hadn’t wasted any time or effort lying to Yuri. Besides, if the old master had wanted to pull the wool over Trivin’s eyes, Yoda would not have been so open with Yuri during their journey.

 _No, best let Yoda deal with it, and be prepared to be pulled aside for questioning later_.

Their little party came to an awkward halt about a dozen meters before the towering stone wall and the gate inset to it. There were three knight-padawan pairs standing before the stone slab, the knights clustered to the side and trying to give their padawans discreet, encouraging looks. The three younglings – two looking like they’d just been chosen from the crèche – weren’t getting very far. One of them stood, hand outstretched as he tried to use the Force to make the slab sink into the ground. Yuri bit back a sigh as the two other padawans glanced at each other, then also reached out. At their age, they needed to work together to get the door to open, and the fact that Master Trivin had expected them to be inside already did not bode well for the group’s cohesiveness.

The boy was stubborn. One of the girls was hesitant, with uncertain or weak telekinetic skills. The younger girl, a Quarren, glared as if her will ought to be enough all on its own.

Not one of them was trying to work together, which was part of the whole damned exercise.

Master Trivin motioned for them to stay back and out of the way, and Yuri huddled in his cloak and exchanged sympathetic glances with Trivin. Yuri tried to wait patiently as the younglings made two more scattershot attempts, but when even the Quarren staggered back from her efforts, he sighed.

With just a faint grumble, the door slid smoothly downwards, rocks and ice crumbling around it and deflected by the Force off to the sides.

Yuri glanced over at the knights, who looked just as shocked as he did. They hadn’t broken tradition and helped, so then who–

 _Hells_. He looked to his right as the massive stone slab settled into place and Skywalker lowered his hands. The boy rolled his shoulders as if he’d exerted himself, but not to the degree that Yuri would expect. Sith hells, Yuri wasn’t even sure _he_ could have accomplished that feat so smoothly! For the first time, he felt stirrings of unease over the boy, rather than Skywalker’s Fallen master.

“I beg your pardon!” One of the knights, a furious Zabrak who was young enough that this had to be his first padawan, marched over to them. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Skywalker shrugged. “It’s fucking _cold_ out here.” The Zabrak reeled back as if the profanity was an actual attack. “That blows, and if you have a shred of sensitivity in the Force you can tell they’re not going to work together.” The knights bristled, and the approaching padawans glowered. It was clear that Skywalker was not going to go out of his way to butter anyone up. “We need to get in too, so can we just _do_ this, please?”

It had been a long time since Yuri had so wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. Master Trivin looked like he couldn’t decide if he was going to snigger, explode in anger, or just Force push everyone inside the door before they all froze.

Yoda sighed. “Padawan,” he declared in the driest scolding tone Yuri had heard since his own master had taken him to task for his first hangover. “Worse things there are, than being cold. Important lessons, padawans come here to learn.”

Skywalker, apparently familiar with the tone, had crossed his arms and looked away in an almost-but-not-quite sulk before Yoda had even finished the first word. “I know, I know, sorry, sheesh.”

The old master harrumphed and the boy a light thwack in the leg with his cane. “Apologize to me later, you can. Deserve an apology now, these padawans do.”

Skywalker’s sigh wasn’t quite so put upon as Yuri thought it would be. He turned and bowed to the three padawans, who had arranged themselves in a defensive line in front of him. “I’m very sorry for butting in on your learning opportunity.” Yuri tried not to roll his eyes, or draw any attention to Yoda’s tiny grin. “I’ll work to be more patient in the future, and I hope you all find swift success today.”

“Good, padawan.” Yoda sounded pleased, though Yuri had spotted the subtle dig that Skywalker had put into his words. “Important lesson _you_ have learned today as well.”

The uncertain girl stuck her jaw out a little. “I thought you weren’t ever taking on a padawan again.” She sounded hurt, and her mood seemed to bounce and reflect off the other padawans.

The near human boy sneered. “Must be because he’s an _apprentice_ , isn’t he?”

“Sith!” the Quarren girl yelled, and Yoda held his head high, remaining calm as the knights stirred and murmured half-hearted admonitions.

Master Trivin was livid, bristling like an offended feline. “Younglings! What do you–”

“Where the _fuck_ do you get off talking to Yoda that way?” Skywalker snarled over Trivin, hands in fists and taking a step closer to the padawans. The knights all shifted, lightsabers closer to hand. “I thought they taught some fucking manners at the Temple – or did you fail _those_ lessons, too?”

The Zabrak knight stepped forward, motioning the quiet girl back. He pointed grandly at Yoda, sneer on his face and his other hand resting on his belt by his lightsaber. “Master Trivin, you have _no_ idea what it is you’re escorting into this holy place! Leave _now_ , Darksider!”

Trivin was sputtering, and Anakin looked furious. “As if _any_ of you would –”

“Anakin, _stop_.” Yoda’s voice was hard, sharp enough to cut off the snarling teen. “This fight we shall not have! Words matter not! Names matter not! Worth anger and time, this is not.” The brittle edge dropped away, leaving just sadness in its wake. “Anger will only build the walls higher. Calm and reason we need now. A time for anger there is, yet now, it is not.” Skywalker inhaled deeply through his nose, anger simmering through the Force but constrained as he nodded once to the Jedi and turned his back to them, walking towards Yuri and a confused but indignant Trivin.

Yoda gave a much more polite, conciliatory bow to the Jedi. “Our apologies for the trouble. Best of luck, young padawans.” He remained facing them with a melancholy but pleasant enough smile, taking a step back as a clear gesture of dismissal.

The knights exchanged looks, but turned. Not one of them released their weapons.

Yuri saw it happen almost in slow motion, as if the Force wanted to make sure he was a witness. He was certain it was just horror at how incredibly _stupid_ some beings could be, but it was moot.

The Quarren girl dipped down in a swift movement, a mulish expression making her face tentacles squirm as she grabbed a handful of dirty snow and ice near her boot. She rose up, hurling the slushball, which sailed through the air to hit Yoda on the shoulder.

She might have been saying something, in all likelihood about Sith, but Yuri was too focused on Skywalker for any of it to register. Yoda was between Yuri and Anakin, which gave Yuri a front-row seat to the boy’s reaction as Yoda stumbled backward with a grunt. Anakin’s face contorted. The hints of potential brutality Yuri had glimpsed flared to life as Sith-yellow overtook the boy’s eyes, and Darkness exploded from the teen.

Teeth bared in a snarl, eyes blazing, Skywalker spun on the Quarren and lunged. The roaring Darkness, amplified through the crystals in the rock below the icy slush, rebounded through the Jedi. The unexpected assault was so strong that all of them, even Yuri and Triven, were driven down to their knees.

Yuri had thought the boy’s Darkness was horrible when Skywalker was meditating. Now that he had something to compare it to, it was clear that it had been held in check before. This sort of power was unheard of. It was one of the most horrifying moments of Yuri’s life as he watched the teenager leap with hands in claws to rend the silly, scared youngling to bits.

Master Yoda was a blur as he slammed into Skywalker’s shoulder. The old master didn’t seem to have been affected by the blast of Darkness at all. Skywalker plowed face-first into the snow, sending out muffled curses as the storm of Darkness abruptly quieted, pulling back and centering around Yoda, once again a contained swirl instead of a rampaging storm.

The knights had their lightsabers ready and lit, and were scrambling back to their feet.

Yuri managed to get his feet back under him, but Trivin, still on his knees, only gaped in horror.

Yoda held his lightsaber in a careful guard position, and his eyes glowed amber. “Fight, we do not wish to.” His voice had a strange, creepy lilt that was almost playful – albeit terrifying. It froze Yuri in place; his hand remained on his lightsaber but he didn’t remove it from his belt. Yoda fixed those blazing eyes on one of the knights, meeting her eyes. “Do you, Knight Anfar?”

Anfar held Yoda’s eyes, but there was a clear tremble to her lightsaber. “No,” she managed at last, and her voice, at least, was steady enough. “No, we do not wish to fight.” She was the first to extinguish her weapon, and then, head held high, she called her padawan to her side. She deliberately turned her back to Yoda and marched inside, the other two pairs following with as much haste and dignity that they could muster.

There were several breaths of tense silence. Skywalker had gone limp and the Darkness had been reined in. Trivin, finally on his feet again, couldn’t seem to decide if he was going to continue staring in horrified shock, or draw his lightsaber.

Yuri had to force his hand away from his. _They are not the enemy. They did not_ start _anything, and Yoda just_ stopped _it before...matters got out of hand_.

He _hated_ the fact that he had no idea who he would have drawn his lightsaber against.

He hated even more that he knew the Jedi had been in the wrong.  It had been bad enough to have Yoda rub his nose in his Attachment problem on the shuttle, but  practical demonstrations always had more impact .

Yoda disengaged his lightsaber and moved off of Skywalker. The boy pushed himself up, but remained on one knee, brushing bits of slush and grit off his face. His expression wasn’t one of anger, or the sulk Yuri had half-expected, but one of subdued chagrin. “Fuck. I – fuck. I’m sorry. I really messed that up.”

Yoda sighed and looked tired. He patted Skywalker on the shoulder. “Understandable, your reaction is, but led to people being hurt, it could have. And if hurt _you_ were, very sad I would be.”

The boy had a wry, sad grin. “Yeah, that would suck.”

“And if younglings you had hurt, devastated we both would be, hmm? Wish that upon you, I would not.”

Trivin had finally had enough time to recover. He gave himself a shake and stepped forward. Yuri grabbed the man’s arm, gesturing for him to wait.

What Yoda was saying was too strange, too important, for some busybody to interrupt.

Yoda nodded at a comment of Skywalker’s. “Other ways to fight, there are. A place, physical violence has, but best or most effective, it is not always.” Then he glanced over a Trivin. By now, his eyes looked normal, and the Darkness had disappeared as if it never existed.

Master Trivin pulled away from Yuri. He was pale, and he kept his head high as he approached the two Fallen Jedi. “Master Yoda, I demand an explanation for this. Strike me down, I do not care, but this place has been under my protection for five decades and I will not tolerate Sith here.”

Skywalker’s lips tightened, clearly biting back words. Yoda, however, was calm as he met the human’s eyes. “So quick, you are, to name us that?”

“You are too proficient a Force user to have slipped and Fallen. That was _Dark_ , and those Jedi know things which you have not shared with me.”

Yoda nodded. “Left the Order, I have. Said so, I did. Chose to leave, I did, for using the Dark side was necessary to destroy a true Sith Lord.” Trivin paled even more, and glanced over at Yuri. It seemed that while his allegiances were still in question, he was at least considered separate enough for the first blush of verification. Yuri nodded, and Trivin’s head whipped back around towards Yoda. The old master had a sad, wry smile. “An easy choice, it was not. But Sith, Chancellor Palpatine was, and Jedi in name or not, stop him I had to. Alone I was not,” Yoda allowed with a wider smile, “but here, those others are not.”

“Chancellor... _Palpatine_?” the local Jedi gasped. “When you said political turmoil– you mean–” Tivin shook his head, hand held up in a mute plea for some time to grapple with a very strange reality. Skywalker was slow and careful as he stood, demeanor still downcast.

After a long moment, Trivin looked up. “Mas– _Yoda_ , do you _swear_ , upon our years of friendship and this boy’s life that you are here with no ill intentions?”

Interesting. Neither Skywalker nor Yoda even tensed at the threat. Hells, Anakin appeared a little resigned and a little pissed off, but he did not look as if he were surprised. Yoda gave one simple, solemn nod. “Swear so, I do. If questions you have, answer what I can, I will.”

Yoda and Trivin locked gazes for a time, and Yuri could feel strange currents of the Force between the two. Assessing the other? Silent communication? He couldn’t tell.

Eventually, Trivin nodded. “Very well. You will have Guardians escorting you while you are here. Please see yourselves to the waiting area – the entrance is on the left side of the main cavern. I _will_ have questions for you. Excuse me.” Trivin hurried off, robes fluttering and the Force a thundercloud of emotion around him.

Yoda sighed, then nodded appreciation as Anakin offered a shoulder to him. Yuri followed them into the main chamber, the three of them skirting around the edges – quite far from the waiting knights – to duck into a waiting area. Several Guardians were already waiting for them, nervous hands lingering on their lightsabers.

Yuri settled himself in a chair, chewing on what was turning into an increasingly odd day. He had never seen Yoda ready and prepared for a fight, but that he would do so in a blind instant not for himself, but for another, was not so odd.

What _was_ odd was how Yoda was treating Anakin’s use of the Dark. The boy had lost all control. Any Jedi who did such a thing would be, at best, labeled Fallen and ordered to the mindhealers.

Yet, neither Yoda nor Skywalker were treating it as if the matter were grave or needed serious consideration. Oh, it was nice and all that Yoda was using it as a learning opportunity, and it was impressive that Skywalker had been genuinely _listening_ instead of just waiting for his teacher to stop yammering. For all that –

It was not the Jedi way.

Watching the two talk to each other in soft voices – Yoda reassuring with the air of a master teaching his padawan an important lesson, Skywalker with the humble, attentive attitude that would never mark one who was Dark – Yuri found himself wanting to understand. He could not imagine following their path, yet he was curious to know how they could.

* * *

Rillian took a deep breath and palmed the door chime. It was a few good minutes before she could sense someone hurrying up to the door, and a young man opened it. He blinked. “Uh. Hi?”

[Hello! I’m here to see Qui-Gon?]

He blinked a few more times, then held up a finger. “One moment.” He turned and bellowed down the stairs behind him. “Threepio! Get your tin-plated butt up here, and be prepared to speak Wookiee!”

Rillian sighed and pulled a data pad from her pouch. She really did wish more beings spoke Shyriiwook. By the time she’d almost finished typing her request into her datapad, a protocol droid had minced his way up the stairs. “Hello! How might I be of assistance?”

She hadn’t expected to see a protocol droid on a moisture farm. [Hello. I’m Raallandirr. Rillian for short. Qui-Gon invited me to visit.]

“Oh! Goodness. Master Owen, this is Raallandirr, though she also answers to Rillian. She’s here to see Master Jinn!”

The young man nodded and gave her an uncomfortable wave. “Owen Lars, nice to meet you. What do you want with Jinn?”

 _Well, I’ve quit the Jedi Order and want to learn the Dark side from him._ That didn’t seem to be the wisest approach to take. [We met the day before yesterday at Mos Espa. He invited me to visit.]

“And you just _happened_ to be in the area?”

She sighed. [No, but I didn’t want to spend much more time around the Jedi AgriCorps when I can learn things from him instead of being a messenger pilot.]

This time, when Threepio translated, Owen looked surprised. “You quit – Shiiiiit, how many of you does he intend to collect?”

[As few as possible, I think.]

Well, at least he appreciated dry humor, even if it was frustrating as ever to have to work through a means of translation. He thawed to her, nodding and turning away. “Come on. I hope he’s expecting to see you; he’s been a grumpy bastard today.”

As ill as that boded, Rillian was pleasantly surprised when they wound their way into a small compound, Owen leading her to a small area that looked to be guest quarters. Qui-Gon was settled in full lotus away from the door, a very un-meditative scowl on his face. Owen stopped, gave her an encouraging grin, and then scampered off.

 _Not sticking around for the carnage, huh?_ Rillian grinned, then cleared her throat.

“Oh for – Rillian!” Qui-Gon unfolded himself and rose to his feet with a grunt. He came over with a wide, surprised grin, his annoyance evaporating. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

[I said I would hurry!] She grinned and hugged him, amused yet again that the man squeaked and froze for a moment before trying to return it.

“Well, yes, but I thought–” Qui-Gon shook his head. “Never mind.”

She was somewhat certain he was doing a lousy job of covering the fact that he’d thought she would not be returning, having had time to consider his offer. He covered it gracefully enough by giving her a quick tour of the place, introducing her to Shmi and Cliegg. Both of the humans seemed bemused, but nice enough, as they shared a light meal.

For all that, nothing could hide that Qui-Gon Jinn was entirely out of sorts. After lunch, when the three Larses took a speeder into town, Rillian took advantage of the opportunity to talk to Qui-Gon alone. Rillian sat down next to the grumpy ex-Jedi and crossed her arms, giving him a light scolding look.

[Owen said you’d been having a day.]

“I’m not–” Qui-Gon sighed and slumped in the chair, looking away to glare at a hapless wall. “I’ve apparently become quite the fool, of late.” Rillian made a soft, curious chuff. Qui-Gon looked over at her and managed a flicker of a grin. “I... _miss_ the others.” He scrubbed both hands over his face. “They’ve been close by, even if not in sight, and now – I’m alone. Ridiculous, being lonely. I was a damn _Sith apprentice_ , I used to _enjoy_ being alone. Being away from my master.”

[But that’s good, right?] Qui-Gon stared at her. [It shows you’re changing. And...and anyway, you’re not _alone_ -alone. I’m here, after all!]

It was clear that Qui-Gon was trying. He gave her a flicker of a smile before running a hand over his hair, gathering it back into a tail. “Yes. You’re right, of course.” He let go of his hair and gave a much more natural grin. “Your Force-signature is already somewhat familiar, and...it does help. Thank you.”

[It helps?] Rillian felt a gentle nudge through the Force, the shape and flavor of it – despite having neither of these things – so strongly reminiscent of Qui-Gon that she did not think she would be able to mistake it.

“That,” he said in a gentle voice. “Being able to feel that, _find_ it nearby without effort because those beings are so familiar.”

Huh. Rillian wondered if she’d missed this type of instruction due to aging out, or if the Jedi Order simply found no value in something that might be construed as personal attachment.  [Is there any way to make that more familiar faster? Knowing a Force-signature better, I mean.]

“I...don’t know. I’ve never put much thought into the matter.” He frowned at the wall again, but this time he seemed to be thinking rather than glaring. “One way would be to form a padawan bond with you, but I already have one, and we really do need to discuss this with Yoda before we decide anything on that front. Hmmm. I suppose...physical contact would be another way.”

[What, like hugging?] Rillian grinned, hoping the gentle, teasing tone would get across.

She wasn’t too surprised that Qui-Gon was caught up in thought enough that he didn’t notice. “Hmm.” He dropped down off the chair, settling himself on the floor. “How about this: Would you sit next to me, while I meditate?”

She didn’t grin too much as she dropped down to the floor, deciding to tease again with a gentle bump of shoulders. Master Jinn returned the gesture with his own wry grin, then closed his eyes and seemed to drop into meditation without much effort.

Sitting this close, arms and knees bumping up against each other, was surprisingly nice. Rillian let herself fall into a light, comfortable trance, feeling the Force swirl around them. It felt giddy, playful, _right_ , and she grinned as she could feel...something connect in her mind, the first faint wisps of– well, she didn’t know what, but it felt just as right as everything else had.

* * *

Anakin took in a deep breath, and then tried to breathe out all the nervousness and uncertainty nipping at him, releasing it into the Force. Just another trial. Just another test. He’d aced plenty, and he’d bombed plenty – galaxy kept on spinning.

He could do this.

Trivin had taken Yoda, then Yuri, aside for private interviews, and each time the man came out looking stunned and a little scared. Had to be the first time he’d heard about Palpatine. On the plus side, they hadn’t been tossed out yet, and the Guardians standing at the exits glowering at them were keeping their lightsabers at their belts.

Yoda was meditating again – or faking it, not that it mattered much in the end. Yuri was prowling around the room, looking a little too fascinated with a kriffing waiting area.

Anakin could do this. He could. Hell, he at least _knew_ there was going to be a solid test, instead of the vague notion that adults, and Jedi in particular, liked sandbagging people with. Qui-Gon had taken him aside before the trip started, sitting him down and talking about how the caves tended to give visions, pulling out “worries, concerns, and general character flaws that disrupt the flow of the Force” – and that it was stronger for folks who might have visions, or were strong in the Force.

Meaning Ani was probably fucked. He appreciated that Qui-Gon spelled it out – Yoda was going to be purchasing several crystals for worst case scenarios, and if Ani wanted to get one from the available selection, that was fine.

He knew he was being stupid. He got that there was no judgement, there’d be no looking down any noses at him if he took the reasonable, safe route. Except, of course, _he_ would think less of himself. Running away from a vision. He could handle it. He’d handled the Initiate’s tests just fine. Besides, Yoda would be there if he got into trouble he couldn’t get out of…

…kind of. Yoda liked letting people make their own mistakes and then giggling at them. Sure, you knew it was decent odds that he was waiting around the corner to help out if need be, but that also meant he saw all the embarrassing stuff.

In a weird way, that helped settle him. “You’ll know if I get a really bad vision, right?” Yoda didn’t open his eyes; he just patted Ani’s knee with a reassuring hum.

Dravaco, of fucking course, was giving them both a rather scandalized look. “Padawans are not normally told what they are liable to encounter.”

“Good thing I’m not a Jedi.” Anakin turned away, crossing his arms and glaring at the wall. The Jedi had the _best_ fucking ideas. Who the hell had been the genius who thought it was a great idea to toss a bunch of Force sensitive kids, maybe only just selected by their masters, into a cave that enhanced visions and issues? Ugh.

He could do this. Hell, he was starting to believe the little mantra. He glanced back over at Yoda. “So I’ll just go in, maybe have to deal with some visions, and I’ll just know somehow one of the crystals is right?”

“Stronger will one of them resonate. Right, it will feel.”

Dravaco nodded. “Everyone seems to think there’s just one crystal for them, their first time through.” He pulled a face. “If that were the case, there would be a lot more trouble replacing lightsabers when someone gets unlucky, or if ‘their’ crystal wasn’t in the mine they went searching in. There are many crystals for any Jedi.”

“Okay. So just like at the Temple, but less idiots around and more crystals. Okay, I can do that.” Ani took another bracing breath, standing straighter. His hand went to his waist where his training blade had been – all the initiates had made a lightsaber under the watchful eyes of master Jedi, using the Force to pull together the pieces and crystal into a unified whole. Qui-Gon had made it clear that if Ani wanted, he’d get to do that part himself, on his own. Sure, the result would be looked over by both Jinn and Yoda to make sure it didn’t explode or something, but making his own lightsaber, without close supervision – it really felt like he was finally being treated like a padawan for real.

“What happened to your old lightsaber?”

Ani tried to get a discreet look at a chrono. Fuck. Yuri hadn’t even been able to go ten minutes this time. It was like the guy could not go for too long without asking questions. He hadn’t decided if that was funny or one _hell_ of a pain in the ass.

Also, the Jedi could be painfully ignorant. “Word of that doesn’t get around the Temple, does it? You leave the Order, they ask for your lightsaber back. Sign of a Jedi knight – or at least one in training. AgriCorp folks don’t get to keep it, either. I’m guessing my lightsaber’s dismantled with the core stuck back at the Temple’s Crystal Room, waiting for some other idiot.” It was reassuring that Yoda’s eyes took on an amber shine for a moment, not to mention touching, that it was on Anakin’s behalf.

Yuri had a funny, pinched look, like he’d just had something sour. Hah. So much for ‘there are many crystals for any Jedi.’ Bastard was possessive of his lightsaber too.

“Excuse me?” The three turned to see one of the local Jedi standing in the doorway, giving Anakin a sour look. “The caverns are clear, so if you wish to proceed today, Padawan Skywalker...”

“Yeah.” Anakin stood and grinned at Yoda. “Let’s do this thing.”

It was _great_ how that made both Dravaco and the local wince.

Twenty minutes later, of course, it all felt horribly moot. Anakin was _freezing_ , wandering around ice caves and taking idle kicks at mounds of snow that had accumulated among glimmering crystalline walls. He felt... _something_ , and he’d followed the thin thread of music in the Force, but he was pretty sure he’d been going in circles.

He finally stopped and closed his eyes, trying to ignore how fucking _cold_ it was. He listened, letting the Force flow through him, only to jump at the contemptuous snort behind him. He whipped around, pulling back in astonishment when he saw Qui-Gon standing at the mouth of the cavelet he was in. The former Jedi was all in black again, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and wearing a cold, disdainful sneer under Dark-touched yellow eyes.

“– the fuck?” Ani squeaked.

Jinn unfolded his arms and looked Anakin over; haughty, bitter, and radiating scorn. “I had thought even you wouldn’t fail like this.”

“Oh, excuse you, what the fuck –”

“Crass, inept with the Force, and not even able to find a single crystal,” Jinn declared, talking right over Anakin. “You use your foul ‘language’ to cover your fear instead of using it, you allow your fears to muzzle your pitiful ability, and look at you.” He shook his head and pulled back as if Ani were covered in bantha crap. “Wandering around _lost_.”

“I’m not _lost,_ ” Anakin snapped back, hands clenching into fists. Fucking Jinn couldn’t even let him and Yoda do this, he had to tag along and babysit and now he was talking down as if Ani were the last idiot in the crèche? _Fuck_ that!

“Of course not.” Jinn could do patronizing and dry like no one Ani had ever met, though usually it was saved for Jawas, and Jinn himself, when he fucked up something big. It hurt, having that thrown at him.

Anakin opened his mouth to tell off the fucker, but Jinn raised a hand and shook his head. “Don’t even bother. I see I was wrong to try to teach you.”

“ _What?_ ” Something inside Ani started to crumble. “Oh, do not even start –”

“I’m not starting, I’m stopping this farce. You can’t even find a _single_ crystal here, and they surround you. You’re not worth my time.”

“Like your time is worth much at all, _Darth_ _Wraith_!” Ani pulled out his own best sneer, since that was better than crying, _anything_ was better than crying, he would not, not for fucking Jinn! “I _can_ do this, I _am_ worthwhile, you kriffing asshole, and fuck you; you were the one who said I’m strong with the Force!”

Jinn rolled his eyes. “We need to add inattentive and thick to your list of deficiencies. I said your _ability_ is muzzled, not your power. If matters were just about power, you’d be fine. You could be exceptional, with some work. But your _ability_ is lacking. No control, no _impulse_ control, no refinement of application – you are all brute force and no dexterity.” Contempt soured the man’s face. “Of course, we both know the other problem.”

“You got your head stuck up your ass years ago, _k_ _ane_ _a bar_?”

“You’re Dark,” Jinn sneered, shaking his head. “Too Dark, too ready to Fall. You were ready to do that long before I and my petty evils came along, and now with training – what you will do as a Sith will make my sins as nothing. Your evil would overshadow Sidious and all his machinations by lightyears. The horrors you create would make his atrocities seem like pleasant bedtime tales in the crèche. No.” Jinn turned, glancing back over his shoulder for one last contemptuous look. “You were never worth teaching.” He started walking.

“You karking – _Fuck_ _you_ , _Jinn_!” Anakin howled, taking his own step forward. His hands were clenched into painful fists, he could feel the icy burn of tear tracks down his face, and all of that paled before the inferno of pain and loss roiling in his gut. “I hate you, you _fucking_ coward, always fucking _leaving!_ ” A sob ripped out of him, and he curled forward from the sudden pain of it. To think he’d felt _good_ looking back at Jinn, standing solemn and looking proud near the homestead as Ani guided the new shuttle aloft. He’d been fucking _touched_ that the asshole had taken the time to make sure he wouldn’t –

The world stopped for a moment.

Jinn had pulled him aside and made sure he knew there’d be fucking _visions_. “Asshole,” Ani whispered, seeing out of the corner of his eyes as Jinn’s boots and cape hesitated. “I don’t hate you.” It was so hard to say, to _croak_ , forcing the words out past the emotion stuck in his throat. If this was a vision, if this was the Force making him _look_ at what was inside him, what he – what he feared, then fuck all, he _had_ to face it. “You piss me off and drive me nuts, but I don’t hate you.” He forced himself upright, defiantly meeting Jinn’s yellow eyes. “I’m not evil and neither are you. And power shouldn’t fucking matter. It’s not what you got, but how you use it, right? And there’s good in us both. Fucker.”

“Hot air and foul language, ready to fall to the Dark side. That is _all_ you are.” Jinn turned away again and resumed walking.

“I’ll prove it! Come over here!” Qui-Gon hesitated and glanced back, still Dark, still sneering at him. “What’s the matter, still running, you fucking coward? Prove your fucking point, Jinn! If you’re not too scared, that is. Come on!” Ani spun around, dropping down into a meditation position. “I’m not all Dark; neither are you! Sit your stupid fucking ass down and prove you can even meditate, ’cause if you can’t even manage that, you got _no_ right telling me I’m useless!”

Anakin was shaking, terrified that he was wrong, that this wasn’t a vision, it really was Jinn and he’d just signed away any hopes of a future. He could hear the man snarl, the crunch of snow underneath swift boots, and he tensed at the litany of insulting mutters approaching.

Ani went still as Jinn sat down behind him, the now familiar motions of the man drawing long legs up into lotus filling Ani with a painful, strange hope. Then he set that aside, dropping into a trance and letting his sense of the Force open up. The presence at his back – Dark, menacing and bitter, but for all of that Qui-Gon Jinn – held for a moment, then Qui-Gon’s form melted into something warm and Light. Not human, not Jinn; a _vision_. The touch of the Force swirled around him, reassuring and gentle as it wrapped him in a sense of peace, the crystals _singing_ in reflection of the joyful power.

The sensation lingered, holding him for a time before gently fading away. Ani opened his eyes and reached out, his fingers called to a single crystal right in front of him. It was perched on a large up-thrust crystal, gleaming at eye level, and it separated from the larger structure with a light tug. It tumbled into his palm, and as promised, it felt _right_.

* * *

Yuri paced back and forth, confounded by the vague concern he felt for the Skywalker brat. It wasn’t as if it was _his_ padawan. It wasn’t as if the caves posed much of a danger to _any_ padawan – no more than most other activities one needed to expose young Jedi to, anyways. The caves were well monitored, with at least one Jedi shadowing any entrant in a system of Force-shielded tunnels above, ready to drop down via hatches and assist if someone got too far in over their head. Very few of the visions or reality-warping influences of the Force would actually do harm; most of the challenges were of the psychological nature and just _looked_ dangerous. Accidents, however, were an unfortunate reality of the galaxy. That was why Yoda was in those tunnels, presumably pacing along with his padawan and monitoring the boy’s progress.

Blast. Yuri did seem to be developing a soft spot for the brat.

The door opened, and Yuri turned as quick as he could while still maintaining a serene front. Yoda walked in, using his gimer stick as he had not earlier, leaning heavily upon it while a pensive look settled on his face.

No. No, the boy wouldn’t have failed. “Is...everything all right?”

Yoda looked up, appearing surprised. “Yes.”

Yuri blinked. Yoda took his sweet time clambering back onto the bench he’d been on before. Then the old master leaned back, closed his eyes, and seemed to drop into meditation.

The door opened again, and a surprisingly serene Skywalker emerged, an odd, lopsided grin on his face. The boy grinned at them – _both_ of them, and waved. Between his fingers, a crystal sparkled.

“Well done,” Yoda declared with a nod.

“Thanks.” Skywalker loped over to them, then sat down a little heavily on the bench next to Yoda. Skywalker hesitated a moment before scooping the old master up like some _doll_ , much to the loud consternation of one of the local Guardians. Yoda, on the other hand, seemed content to return a tight hug.

Yuri had no idea what to do.

“I almost went on my ass,” Anakin mumbled into Yoda’s cloak.

“Yet succeed, you did,” the old master declared, patting the boy’s shoulder.

“This place blows.”

“Learn something, did you?”

“Do you know? What...what happened, what I saw?”

“Yes.”

Yuri _gaped._ Again, it wasn’t _forbidden_ , but these visions were meant to be personal.

Yet Skywalker slumped a little, losing the serenity for a tiny sob of relief. “Oh, thank fuck, I didn’t want to spill all those details.”

“Want others to know, you do not, or –”

“No, I just...” Skywalker’s voice trailed off to a whisper. “That _hurt_.”

Yoda let out a soft hum. “Painful, some truths are. Yet learn them, we should. Often only with some hurt does growth come.”

“I guess.” The boy sniffled before sitting up straight, moving Yoda back to his perch on the bench. “Sorry about that.”

Yoda chuckled and patted Skywalker on the knee. “Surprised I was, but if objected I did, my gimer stick I know how to use.”

That got a chuckle out of the boy as well. One more sniffle, a swipe of the face, and Skywalker gave the old master a grin. “Thanks. Um, what kind of bribery is needed to get you to tell Qui-Gon about that instead of me?”

“Hmm. Appreciated, a lift back to the shuttle would be.”

Yuri sidled over to the very scandalized local Jedi. “This is really happening, right?” he asked softly, as Yoda and a very un-Jedi-like teen wrangled out the details of _favors_. The poor woman nodded, looking as stunned as he felt. Yuri couldn’t decide if he was stifling a laugh or a sigh even as he bit it back.

Nothing these madmen did made a lick of sense anymore.

Since Yoda had either bought crystals when talking with Tivin, or was no longer welcome to purchase them, the Guardians escorted them with unseemly haste back to their shuttle. Skywalker got them aloft and into hyperspace before stumbling off to a bunk.

After a long moment of watching the stars streak past, Yoda sighed and looked over at Yuri. “So. Evil, are we? Need to stop us, do you?”

Yuri had to look away. He’d been asking himself that since he first ran into them. He needed a quick moment to brace himself. “Master Yoda, I don’t know what to do with you. You use the Dark side. You seem to have good enough intentions, but for all I know that could be a facade. _Why_ you would want to take the time to fool me, I have no idea.” He took a deep, bracing breath, then let it out in a sigh. “What are you trying to _do_? You’re not setting up some sort of, of Dark Jedi.” Given Yoda’s wide-eyed, vigorous headshake, the notion hadn’t even occurred to him. “Then what the hell are you trying to do?”

Yoda sighed again, looking his age, for a moment. “Live our lives, we wish to. That is all.” The old master hesitated, studying Yuri in a way that was highly uncomfortable. “Still that uncertain about us, are you?”

“Yes. You...seem to be content with this strange lifestyle, but I cannot imagine it was worth _Falling._ ”

“Hmmm. A deal I will make with you, then. Our home, you may visit. If a threat to the Republic we are not, then keep our location secret, you will. If danger we present to others, then abide by your decisions, we will. Promise to this, will you?”

Yuri’s first instinct was to agree, but he made himself think it over. If Yoda had wanted him out of the way, the Metallos spaceport would have been a perfect place to make Yuri disappear. Making this offer now, after the Jedi at Illum had seen Yuri in Yoda’s company, meant that Yuri wasn’t as easy a threat to get rid of without any connection back to Yoda. Yuri was also reasonably certain _no one_ knew where Yoda and Jinn had gone to ground, and the chance to actually meet the now infamous Jinn–

He’d be an idiot _and_ a fool to pass that chance up, especially with Yoda’s promise of safe passage. “I think I can live with those terms. You have my word, Master Yoda.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, boundless thanks to Flamethrower for glorious betaing, and the loan of Yuri and Rillian. <3

It had been a long time since Yuri had been on a desert world. He held a hand up, trying to shadow his eyes before he was even halfway down the ramp. It was an impossible task, even without the second sun homing in from another angle. The heat crackled against him, and the sand and rock went on for kilometers, shimmering in a watery haze. Sweat prickled up on his skin, promising absolutely no relief.

“Charming,” he murmured, squinting at the vaporator sensors scattered around a small habitat dome.

Yoda gave a contented hum, already scampering down the ramp. Skywalker was shutting down systems onboard, so Yuri ventured forward. By the time he stepped off the ramp, the dome’s door had opened to reveal Qui-Gon Jinn – dressed like a local farmer, not the Sith from the ’feeds – and a Wookiee. From the lift of Yoda’s ears, the Wookiee was a surprise.

“Welcome back!” Qui-Gon called, but he was glancing over in Yuri’s direction. “I see you brought a friend.”

“As have you!” Yoda cackled, scampering over to greet the Wookiee. Yuri tried hard not to gulp as Qui-Gon prowled up to him, casually exuding Darkness in a way that neither Yoda nor Skywalker _ever_ had.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Yuri gave the man his most formal bow, one Master to another. “Jedi Master Yuri Dravaco, at your service.”

Jinn returned it, precise to the point of being cutting. “Qui-Gon Jinn.” At Yuri’s startled look, Jinn quirked a small smile. “Surprised? I don’t lay claim to titles I have no right to. I am no Jedi.”

“Some would say you had earned other titles.”

“Yes, but ’Sith Apprentice’ does not tend to inspire the right sort of image.”

“I had thought you might want to present that kind of image, given...” Yuri waved a hand vaguely in the other man’s direction. “Your presence in the Force.”

Qui-Gon pulled back a little, the smile growing a shade.

“Also, given what you did to Palpatine.” Yuri pointed out.

“Sidious, thank you. Let’s call a Sith a Sith, shall we?”

“Then what _does_ that make you?” Yuri asked.

“I’d appreciate knowing what willingly walking into a den of Darksiders makes _you_ , Master Dravaco.”

Yuri hesitated a moment. “Yuri, please. I didn’t set out to come here; I just ran into Master Yoda and I wanted to know...” He floundered a little. He knew some of what had happened; he thought he might even understand the whys, but... “What are your intentions?”

That seemed to amuse the former Sith. “Towards what? The Jedi? We would rather just be left alone. Mace told us we would not be welcome back on Coruscant, and I suspect most of Republic space would not be very happy to see our faces.” Qui-Gon glanced back at the collection of vaporators. Yoda was having a cheerful conversation with the Wookiee. “We seem to have found a place for ourselves here. A quiet life sounds like a wonderful thing.”

The man sounded wistful, as if he’d never encountered such an existence.

“Hey!” Skywalker came bounding out down the ramp, a large smile on his face. “Don’t terrorize the Jedi too much; he’s decent enough for having a stick up his ass.” Yuri sputtered, not just over the insult, but at how Jinn immediately stopped radiating Darkness. “Also, don’t encourage him; he won’t stop asking questions.”

“Would you _please_ consider having some respect?” Yuri asked, a plaintive note in his voice.

“See?” Anakin gave the exasperated Jedi a cheeky grin as he swept past. The boy hesitated a moment when he saw Jinn’s wide smile, then he lunged into a hug. It was an awkward thing, with Jinn looking uncomfortable and a little bit bewildered, but he was clearly struggling to do it right. Skywalker murmured something Yuri couldn’t hear, so he stepped past them to try to afford them some privacy.

“Master Dravaco!” Yoda beckoned him over, smiling up at the Wookiee. “Meet Rillian, you should.”

 _This ought to be interesting_. Yuri put on his politest smile and stepped forward. _What the hell am I getting into?_

* * *

Rillian watched Shmi Skywalker firmly take Master Dravaco in hand, escorting him off for a tour of the farm. She hadn’t gotten that treatment, and she didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. Then Qui-Gon put a gentle hand on her shoulder, leading her, Yoda, and Skywalker down and into what looked like guest quarters. Skywalker flopped down to sit cross-legged on the sleeping pallet, and after a moment’s hesitation, Rillian settled down next to him. The boy seemed nice enough – for someone with that foul a mouth – and he’d taken her presence with good cheer. Yoda scampered over to a low, squishy pillow, seating himself on it as Qui-Gon took the only chair in the room.

Skywalker grinned at Qui-Gon, but there was an edge to the expression. “So, what’s going on that needs Mom distracting Dravaco? He’s not too bad.”

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes a little. “We need to talk, that’s what’s going on. Yuri is being kept busy because there are only so many violations of the Jedi Code I’m willing to wave in front of the man’s face.” He turned to Yoda, who was also grinning a bit. “Did Rillian here tell you that she’s looking to learn with us?”

Skywalker’s head whipped around, and he gave her quite the calculating glance. Rillian was relieved that there was curiosity, but not hostility in the expression. Given that he wore a padawan’s braid, she didn’t want him thinking she was out to replace him or something.

Yoda had sobered. He nodded. “Mmm, very interesting this is.”

“What d’you mean, ‘violations of the Code?’ We are so not Jedi.” Skywalker angled back, bracing himself with his hands while giving Qui-Gon a challenging look.

“Rillian wants to learn our approach to the Force, and she quite reasonably asked why we need to be limited to one student per master. I’m still chewing through the implications and risks – if both the Jedi and the Sith do it, are they doing it for a good reason, or is it the mutual stupidity again?”

Skywalker’s snort made his opinion clear, but the two Masters didn’t seem quite so sanguine.

Qui-Gon looked back over at Yoda and grinned. “In the meantime, I thought you might be willing to take on a padawan at last.”

Master Jinn wasn’t looking at Skywalker, so he probably didn’t see the human perk up with a sudden, brilliant grin. In the Force, he bubbled with amusement and mischief.

She wondered what the joke was. At least she wasn’t liable to be the butt of it?

Yoda had a calm, too-innocent expression for Jinn. “But a padawan to you, I still am. A student taking on a student?” He tsked, shaking his head in mock sorrow. When he glanced over her way, Yoda was kind enough to give her a slow wink. “ _Very_ bad manners indeed!”

[Wait.] That couldn’t be right. Skywalker had the braid. Qui-Gon had been pretty hide-bound about the one student thing. [ _Yoda’s_ your –] Rillian broke off to gape at the two Masters, while Skywalker burst out cackling, slumping down onto the pallet to revel in his hilarity.

Qui-Gon’s expression was strange, going from gob-smacked to slow-dawning realization. A blush rose up along his face, and he groaned before dropping his face into a palm. “Well. I’ve not been _this_ much of a fool in...” He trailed off, only to look up and give Rillain a mortified, apologetic glance.

“Ever?” Anakin giggled. “ _Wow_ , what I wouldn’t give for a holo of your face!”

Qui-Gon glared at the boy, looking to be a hair’s breadth from resorting to rude gestures.

It was quite the strange moment for Rillian. No, she hadn’t been the butt of the joke, or snubbed. She didn’t quite understand what Master Jinn had done – he somehow had a training bond with Yoda as his student? – but the hilarity and camaraderie was warm, inclusive. The wash of humor and affection she could feel through the room surprised her, the emotions resonating through the Force. _This_ must have been what Qui-Gon meant when he spoke of the familiar Force signatures, how he missed their presence. It was stunning, how much she liked it, how much it felt like _home_.

It matched what the Force had been calling her towards, the promise of belonging and something right. By the time Qui-Gon gathered his composure, Rillian was grinning, comfortable and confident that the Force had indeed been with her all this time.

Master Jinn gave her a lopsided smile. “This is hardly as dignified as one might hope, but that seems to be par for course. Raallandirr, would you be willing to take me as your master, and do me the honor of being sister padawan to these giggling idiots?”

Anakin gave her a thumbs up, feeling open, welcoming, and amused. Yoda graced her with a smile before using the Force to flick something at Qui-Gon, who deflected it off with a small wave of the fingers.

Rilllian whooped and lunged to her feet to hug Qui-Gon. Her delighted grin spread even wider as it seemed this time, he was ready for it. [An honor, and with pleasure!] Rillian smiled back, feeling giddy and right and joyous. The connection, the rightness, that Rillian had felt when she and Qui-Gon had meditated together returned, stronger now. Something snapped into place in the Force, solid and reassuring, and Rillian felt a giddy joy sweep through her.

When she let Jinn go, he looked around with a bemused grin. “Well, _padawans_ , since we seem to have taken care of this, shall we go construct lightsabers before I’m forced to adopt any more strays as fellow students?”

* * *

Owen sat on one of the parts tables in the workroom, trying to be quiet as Ani and Qui-Gon murmured to each other over something involving the crystals that Ani and Yoda had brought back. The Wookiee, Rillian, was sitting by a bunch of mechanical bits, a frown on her face as the bits floated up and about in the air. They were assembling delicately into a long, textured pipe, the form of a lightsaber coming together with impressive precision. When the last bit snapped into place loud enough that Owen could hear it, the Wookiee lowered her hands. She opened her eyes, grinning as the lightsaber settled into those large paws. She handed it to Yoda, who had been watching the whole procedure with a little humming tune and that smile that meant either Rillian was doing things right, or he know exactly how large an explosion was about to happen.

Owen had had enough time around Yoda to learn it was impossible to judge which way the smile was going to go any particular day.

Rillian glanced over at Owen with what he _hoped_ was a sly grin, and churred something.

“Er...” He looked over at Threepio.

“Mistress Rillian wants to assure you that she does indeed know what she’s doing. She _has_ done this before.”

“Hey! I don’t have a problem with you, it’s _him_ I don’t trust!”

Yoda looked up with a mild blink. “Wise, you are.”

Rillian snickered, and Owen shrugged at her. “He told me he _might_ be in the garage, ‘practicing.’ I went in to take the speeder to town, and I found out that he was practicing defying the laws of gravity off the walls.” Owen made a mocking face at the old Jedi, who blithely ignored him. “Landed right on my shoulder, bounced from there to the _ceiling_ , then he floated down to scold me about coming in without knocking.”

Rillian tilted her head to give Owen a speculative look, grumbling something. “Mistress Ri –” She interrupted with a quiet howl. “Ah, my apologies,” Threepio said in consternation. “ _Padawan_ Rillian was asking if you knock now.”

Owen snickered. “Every. Single. Door.” Even as he could see lightsaber parts rising up in the air over by Ani and Qui-Gon, the new guy, Dravaco, ambled in with the slightly stunned look that meant Shmi had given him the in-depth farm tour for the somewhat disliked. He didn’t want the guy getting in the way, so he hopped down and met the man near the door. “Afternoon. Good tour?”

“I...yes. You have quite, er, the extensive operation here.”

“Thanks. So...you approve of the Lars Homestead House for Wayward Former Jedi?” _Gotcha_ , he thought, as the man whipped around to stare at him.

“Do you _really_ –”

“Nah, ‘course not. Too much of a mouthful if nothing else.” Owen could see the man trying to reboot his brain, and when Dravaco had almost regained his equilibrium, Owen struck again. “You thinking about moving in, too? I’m not sure the guest quarters are going to hold much more.”

“ _What?_ ” Interestingly, Dravaco got quieter in his indignation. “No! I’m a Jedi, thank you very much!”

Owen crossed his arms and leveled a mild glare. “You think _they’re_ not worthwhile just because they’re _former_ Jedi?”

Dravaco gaped, then made a face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wonderful, you’re _all_ insane. No. Nor do I think less of _you_ for not being a Jedi at all. But I am _happy_ with my lifestyle, and while I’m trying to determine if they’re at risk from the Dark side, that does not mean I intend to sit down and ask to monitor lessons.”

“Why all the fuss about the Dark side, anyways?”

Dravaco looked at him, all somber and full of himself. “I never thought it was possible for someone to use the Dark side and not be twisted by it. It’s _dangerous._ ”

“I’ll grant you they can all be crazy – well, I don’t know Rillian well enough, but she seems to fit in – but they’re not evil.”

The look he got was just a hair shy of condescending. “You’ve never felt it, never witnessed what it can do.”

Owen wasn’t the type to hesitate without reason. He had made up his mind about his annoying little brother within a month of the kid’s arrival, but he suspected Ani still had no idea that Owen actually _liked_ him. Owen grabbed Dravaco by the arm and pulled him out of the workroom, letting the Jedi stagger a little at the unexpected heat. “Yes, I have.” Dravaco looked at him, wide-eyed and concerned, which was the _only_ thing keeping Owen from ducking back in and informing Jinn that their guest needed to leave, _now_. “And lemme tell you, I can see why you’re pissing yourselves scared as an Order, because I get it’s strange and scary, and it feels creepy.” He glared at the Jedi. “But I’ve seen them stop it, I’ve seen them control it, _use_ it, play with it. Once you get past its weirdness, it’s something impressive. They’re doing decent things with it, and so help me if you get in their way, I will find a way to make your life hell.”

The Jedi looked at him, inscrutable as he’d only seen Yoda manage before. “You have some Force sensitivity, but you’re not able to use it.”

“Whoop de fuck. Never bothered me before Ani came along, doesn’t bother me now. I’m a _farmer_ , and there’s _nothing_ shameful about that.”

Dravaco drew back an inch or so, surprise written on his face. “I would never– I’m not disparaging anything.” He shook his head. “You can feel it, but it doesn’t bother you?”

“No. They also haven’t started cackling manically or plotting to take over the Hutt network. Any other stupid questions?”

Owen got an intent look for that. “Yes.” Dravaco crossed his arms in a mirror of Owen’s pose “Do you think they’ve influenced you in any way?”

“Oh, please. If they had, Ani wouldn’t ever be stuck on harvest duty, Yoda wouldn’t get yelled at when Mom thinks his acrobatics are getting out of hand, and Jinn would’ve replaced every last drop of kaff with _tea_.”

That made Dravaco’s eyebrows bounce halfway to his hairline. Then, to Owen’s surprise, the Jedi laughed. “Fair points, all of them. Thank you.” Dravaco inclined his head at Owen. “If I promise to behave, may we go back in and see the results of their hard work?”

“Okay.” Owen waited, glaring and blocking the way until Dravaco literally did promise. Owen opened up the door as Ani did _something_ that set off the deep thrum of a lightsaber, and a white glow lit up the other side of the workroom. Owen was surprised; he would’ve expected a mechanical success to make Ani smirk and get that cocky air that was so damn annoying, but instead, his little brother was looking at the blade in awe, soft wonder in every bit of his smile.

Owen didn’t hide his proud grin.

* * *

“Excuse me, Rillian?”

 _Oh, wonderful._  Rillian turned and braced herself a little as the very nosy Jedi caught up with her. Master Dravaco seemed to be a halfway decent sort, but Yoda had told them about the deal he’d made with Dravaco, and she was pretty sure that if Dravaco said the word to the Order,  _everyone_  here – Dark side users or not – would be on the run. Years ago, she’d resigned herself to leaving the Order for the AgriCorps when she came of age. That was just the way things were, and the ‘Corps wasn’t bad, but this place felt like home. While it was early days yet, she could feel the way the Force hummed contentedly around them all. The Jedi Order had no actual jurisdiction out here, but if Master Dravaco blabbed, that wouldn’t stop them. They’d come take this away, too.

[Yes?] It was hard to not snap at the Jedi Master a little. She could feel the mix of aggravation and worry seeping in around the edges of her normally more reasonable attitude.

“I wondered if you might want to talk.”

She seriously considered telling him no, but doubted it would work. [About me learning from Qui-Gon and Yoda.]

“Yes.” Master Dravaco folded his arms in the proper “teaching pose” to look more impressive. That, or he didn’t realize he was doing it. “I can’t understand why a former Jedi initiate would wish to learn about the Dark side.”

She managed to limit herself to a politely indifferent shrug. [Well, I didn’t go looking for this, but the Force isn’t exactly warning me away and I’m happy to be learning. It’s not the Dark that interests me so much as the chance to do things, learn more about what I  _can_ do. I’m not really any good with plants, and the AgriCorps only needs so many pilots and mechanics.]

Master Dravaco got stress lines between his eyebrows when fighting off a headache, Rillian noted. She could almost feel the confusion and frustration rolling off of him. “But given what you would have to learn–”

[Sure, it’s different. But different doesn’t mean evil, does it?]

“Including the Dark side?” he tried, still looking at her like she had two heads.

Rillian shook her head. [Attachment,] she corrected. [I know the standard explanation for why Jedi avoid attachments – fairness and all that. And that’s great – for Jedi. But not everyone’s meant to be a Jedi. Maybe some of us are better at doing it this way, instead.] She crossed her arms and glared. [Besides, Wookiees are good at detaching a lot of things. Emotions aren’t one of them.]

Oh,  _good_. He got  _that_  message loud and clear. They stared each other down for a long moment. Rillian was starting to wonder if she’d have to growl and posture some more, maybe boot him out of her way, or if he’d move on his own.

“And how will you feel when others join you? Join this new cause?”

She laughed. If this was a ploy, it wasn’t a good one. [Do you have any idea how hard I had to work to convince Master Jinn that this is something I want? Besides. He kept asking these kinds of questions, too. This isn’t about making something Sith-like, this is about using the abilities we have, with the family we’ve chosen. Just because  _you_  wouldn’t doesn’t make this a crime.]

“Hm. An interesting perspective.”

Rillian was  _not_  about to give him the satisfaction of asking what he meant by that.

“Everything all right here?”

If the Force hadn’t warned her that someone was approaching, Rillian might have jumped as Cliegg Lars spoke up. The human stood at the doorway, a quiet and stolid presence in the Force. His body language was polite, guarded, and just a touch hostile to Master Dravaco.

Rillian grinned, and she didn’t care if Master Dravaco saw it or not. She  _liked_  these people, and it was pretty clear that it wasn’t just Qui-Gon who’d accepted her. [We’re good!]

Cliegg saw the grin, and a tiny smile flickered across his face as he nodded to her. Something akin to ice crept back into his demeanor as he looked back at Master Dravaco. “Master Jedi,” the farmer declared in a weirdly formal tone. “How are you and our guest doing?”

A little bit to Rillian’s surprise, Master Dravaco’s expression slipped into a tiny smile that he hid quickly enough. “I can’t seem to get away from the bizarre philosophical conversations, I’m afraid.”

[Have you tried not asking questions?]

Master Dravaco gave her a wide smirk. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

Cliegg snorted. “I see. A friendly warning, Master Dravaco: On Tatooine we don’t take too kindly to folks who mess with our families.”

“Thank you,” Yuri said with a gracious nod. “In that case, though, I’d best go beard the Krayt dragon in his den. If you could point me to wherever Master Jinn is?”

Cliegg kept looking at him, steady and measuring, until it was clear that neither man was going to break. The farmer let out a soft huff of air, then jerked his chin towards one of the doors off the courtyard. “Last I knew, he was using the office for something. Play nice.”

Rillian was slightly reassured that Master Dravaco’s smile appeared genuine. In the Force, he seemed steadier; satisfaction combined with mild amusement, if she was reading things right.

She shook her head. Humans were weird.

“Force be with you both, then,” Master Dravaco said, then he locked eyes with Rillian. “Padawan Raallandirr, it’s been a pleasure.”

She stared as he walked away, his posture casual. [What just happened?]

Cliegg stepped up next to her. There was a small quirk of the lips that might have been a smile. “I think we might be in the clear.” He patted her on the shoulder. “C’mon, Shmi has dinner. Leave those two to sort out their issues.”

* * *

Yuri took a deep breath and knocked on the door Cliegg had pointed him to. There was silence for a long moment, then a sigh. “You might as well come in.”

Yuri stopped as soon as the door opened, eying the swirl of lightsaber parts floating before Qui-Gon Jinn. The man was settled at a desk, watching the parts come together. Three very different crystals nestled into their proper slots, the last few parts of the casing gliding together around them. Qui-Gon casually reached out to pluck the hilt from the air, giving it a swift, thorough once over. He had a small, wistful smile on his face as he flicked the ignition switch.

A blade of rich copper sprang to life, and Qui-Gon gave the lightsaber an experimental twirl. There was the deep, satisfying thrum of a properly constructed weapon, and Jinn nodded once before disengaging it. He set the weapon down on the desk, and looked up at Yuri, polite curiosity on his face.

Yuri was still looking at the lightsaber as he sat down. “I thought you favored green.”

Qui-Gon smirked a little and shook his head. “Anakin was right. You never do stop asking questions.”

“That was a statement, not a question.”

“Yes, but it was intended to provoke an answer.”

“Very well, then. Did I succeed, or fail to do so?” Yuri was trying not to grin. That would be rude, even if he enjoyed verbally sparring with Jinn even more than with Skywalker.

“I used to,” Jinn allowed, his smile rueful. “The last time I used one, however, was years ago. I lost it during a fight with a Sith.”

He said it so casually, this man who had faced down and defeated not one, but two impossibilities in the span of five years.

Yuri cleared his throat. “An unusual color, as well. Why all the different crystals?”

Jinn hesitated, reaching out to run a finger along the lightsaber’s casing. “I have tried to remember my roots, but it is...sometimes difficult. When I left the Order, I took with me one lightsaber crystal. The Sith who became my master either did not know of it, or did not take advantage of a clear opportunity, since I was allowed to retain it.” He took a deep breath. “The second crystal is from the lightsaber that the Sith had me construct. Red. Sign of the Fallen. The last is from those Yoda brought back.” He met Yuri’s gaze defiantly, daring him to ask more.

Jinn clearly didn’t understand him very well. Yuri nodded. “Interesting. Your own weapon was lost. And to get that color combination, I imagine you’d have to have at least one blue crystal. Master Jinn, if I were to go to the Archives and try to activate Knight Kenobi’s lightsaber, would it work? Or would it be missing something?”

“It’s in the Archives?”

“No matter what your fate was, Knight Kenobi is recognized as having fought a Sith almost to a standstill. That is to be honored.”

Jinn looked away, a sad little smile on his face. “I had no idea. Thank you, Master Dravaco. I’m glad he has such recognition.”

No answer was an answer in its own right. “How obsessed _are_ you with your once-padawan?” _Oh. Hell. Very diplomatic, and he has a lightsaber_ right there _. Brilliantly done, Dravaco!_

Yet Jinn’s sad smile became a faint, wry grin. “Not enough to go chasing ghosts. I believe the reminder is wise. I think he would not begrudge this, and– I find I need to embrace all parts of my past. Jedi. Sith. Whatever it is that I am now. Does that offend you?”

“I suppose not, though I hope Skywalker knows you’ve got sticky fingers.”

The wry grin became rueful. “My current padawan and I have had several discussions about each other’s bad habits.”

“Why call him your padawan? You seem set upon leaving behind all other trappings of the Jedi Order, but not this.” It baffled Yuri that the man would refuse the title of Master, yet cling to calling his student a Padawan.

“Because that is what he is.” Yuri couldn’t stop a dubious look at that particular bit of serenity. “Master Dravaco, he _is_ my student. I once promised him that I would take him on as my padawan. I failed him; the entire damn Order failed him, and that is not just because the system is _broken_. I said I would train him. It can perhaps be said that I was out of my mind for a few years, but hopefully we’re past that. I will not fail him again.”

Yuri could not help but respect the fierce, quiet dedication in the man’s voice. “You realize that will not be recognized by the Order,” he pointed out softly.

“Of course I do.” Jinn sat back in his chair, scrubbing a hand across his face. “As does he. But that doesn’t matter. We are not Jedi. I don’t give any kind of a damn about what they think, and I tried not to even before I left. Of much more significance to me is that my student also does not care. If he did, then we’d have to find a way to make some changes, but thankfully, that is not a problem.”

“I had heard your students were always very important to you.” One of these days, his penchant for understatement was going to land him in an unmitigated mess.

Jinn either ignored, or did not see the absurdity of the statement. He merely sighed and looked away. “Yes. It seems often to my detriment, but I would not trade the experience for any world.”

“Even...given what has happened?” The man had taken one of his padawans' lightsaber crystals. That indicated both a strong level of emotion and a low level of rationality.

“Would you? I have never done well with the Order’s policy on detachment. I think it is _wrong_. Yes, I have been hurt because I am Attached to them. Just because training a student can hurt _someday_ is no reason to shy from it today.” Qui-Gon glared back at him, stubborn and defiant as Yuri had always heard him to be.

“I was rather under the impression that was _not_ your philosophy.”

That had the man looking away. Yuri couldn’t tell if he was studying the desk, the lightsaber, or something a million light years beyond them. “I have tried to learn from my mistakes,” Jinn said in a soft voice. He took a deep breath before looking Yuri in the eyes. “What are your intentions, Master Dravaco?”

Jinn seemed to like cutting to the heart of the matter. Yuri took his own bracing breath. “I want to go home, Master Jinn. I want to go back to Coruscant, the Temple, and spend some time meditating on how the universe is a bizarre place that I thought I understood much better.”

For that, Jinn gave him a strange look. “And regarding us?”

“I thought Dark and evil were the same thing.” Yuri looked down at his hands with a disconcerted, wry grin. “Yet because of you and your friends, I have continued to encounter Darkness.” He shook his head in awe. “Yoda was _meditating_ , and it was Dark. Anakin’s Darkness is...terrifying, overwhelming, yet he used it to _protect_ Yoda, who in turn used Darkness to stop him. You, an admitted Sith, were trying to intimidate me with it, but all it took was the brat poking you, and it was gone. Yoda was trying to teach Skywalker restraint. All of you have a sense of humor, and – I’ve encountered Evil before. The sense of humor people like that have could never tolerate laughing at themselves. All of you revel in it. You live with ordinary people, and did you know I’ve been threatened no less than four times over the last rotation, should I do anything to harm the local Force users?”

Qui-Gon tried unsuccessfully to hide a grin. “I had not, no.”

Yuri studied Jinn for a long moment, then sighed. “What is evil in all of that, Master Jinn?” he asked, voice soft and measured. He took a deep breath before studying the once-Sith. “If the Jedi Order came at you, en masse in all its righteous fury, you and yours would not stop until we would never threaten you again, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And if someone tried to do the same to the Jedi Order?”

Qui-Gon had a small, cold grin that was absolutely predatory. “Then we shall deal with them as we did Sidious. We’re getting rather good at dealing with threats to the Order.”

Yuri laughed, tucking that nugget away. Threats. Plural. They had killed more than one Sith to defend the Jedi, and the Sith slaughtered on Naboo years ago might well not count. “You know, I was supposed to be coming _back_ from an assignment, not getting thrown into the deep end of the Force-philosophy pool. This has been a very strange week. I’m not sure we can be friends, Master Jinn, but I would like to try.”

Jinn held his eyes for a long moment, then he gave Yuri a gentle smile. It almost made the man look like a Jedi again. “I believe I would as well.” Jinn stood, offering his hand to Yuri, who accepted the farewell gesture.

“Good travels, Yuri. Anakin can take you to Anchorhead, and–” Jinn tossed him a large credit chit. “This should see you home.” He bowed, nothing but respect and appreciation in his body language. “It has been an honor.”

Yuri returned the gesture. “Indeed it has. I look forward to speaking with you again.”

* * *

The three teaching bonds hummed through his mind, a comforting background noise that Qui-Gon was bemused to find he was already becoming accustomed to. The connection to Ani was strong, surprisingly solid given what Yoda had told him of the boy’s experience with the Ilum visions. He was gratified and touched that one of the boy’s greatest concerns was their relationship, but that also meant he needed to do a lot of work to make it clear that he was trying to no longer be a fool.

The hybrid bond to Yoda was rich in amusement and bubbling with the joy of one who relishes a challenge. Probably another Sabacc stalemate with Cliegg, then. It was reassuring but strange to feel the mix of student and teacher flowing across the bond, the way it could swap roles between them with a breath. It mostly remained as a safeguard, nothing more.

The third bond, new but strong, was what kept diverting his attention. It was...straightforward, much like Rillian herself, and it provided a sense of comfort to him.

Rillian had come looking for them. She had wanted this.

It had been his choice, in the end. There were no past promises haunting him, there was no imminent need driving pragmatic, if desperate, tactics. This was a student, searching for a master, and a part of himself that Qui-Gon had ignored for far too long missed the direct nature of those roles.

Yoda was the unquestioned Master in Light matters. The old Master was Qui-Gon’s friend, and his student. Anakin was complicated, but a challenge Qui-Gon had been willing and eager to accept.

Rillian was simply his student. It was...nice, to have something quite so straightforward in his life.

“Master?”

Qui-Gon blinked and looked up from the datapad he was staring at. No, he wasn’t imagining things. Anakin stood in the doorway, looking awkward and far more like the adolescent he was than Qui-Gon had seen in some weeks. “Yes?” He tried to keep his tone neutrally inquisitive, since he had no idea what the hell was wrong. Even through the Force and the training bond, all he could tell was that Anakin was uncomfortable. Qui-Gon rather thought that brooding was normal for fifteen-year-olds, but there was an undercurrent of something more going on.

Anakin hesitated, then slipped all the way into the room, shutting the door behind him. As Qui-Gon set down his datapad, the boy took up an almost formal position of patiently waiting in front of him. In the Force, Anakin felt altogether different, fidgety and anxious, but it was most impressive how he could sometimes tap into Temple training and present quite the polite front.

His hand, however, was wrapped tight and possessive around the hilt of his new lightsaber, as if he were certain it was going to be taken away. “Master...look, Rillian got me thinking–”

Qui-Gon held up a hand. “Anakin, I’m this close to getting my back to a wall so the Master Yoda you must be referring to won’t be able to jump on my head at a moment’s notice. Take a breath. Try again, as yourself.” There was a quick spike of anxiety at that, but it was quickly curbed. Interesting. He had no idea what that meant.

After a breath, at least, Anakin both relaxed and managed a flicker of a smile. “Yoda talked to you about– about the vision, right?”

Oh, it was hard not to wince. Qui-Gon nodded instead, hoping the pinched expression on his face didn’t show too much. He...deserved it, in all likelihood. That did not make it hurt any less. The fact that Anakin hadn’t felt comfortable talking to him about it still stung, even though in his youth, he himself had not wanted to tell Dooku everything, no matter how relevant it might have been to his training as a padawan. Had he had access to another Master he trusted – as Anakin had Yoda – then he would have cheerfully taken certain matters to them, instead.

Anakin waited, then grinned a little more. “That was all bantha droppings, right?” He waved some fingers near his ear. “Just...stuff in my head?”

Qui-Gon tried to be discreet about letting out his breath. “Absolutely.” He leaned forward, making sure he met the boy’s eyes steadily. “I know I’ve a long way to go to earn your trust, but what Yoda described – I would _never_ do that.”

Anakin held his eyes for a long time before huffing out a relieved breath. “Okay. Okay. I thought so, I just...” He shrugged and crossed his arms, leaning against the nearest wall and trying to be discreet about how his fingers brushed against the lightsaber. After a long moment of staring at his boots, Anakin lifted a shoulder in another shrug. “And I – I guess I was wondering. About something else.” He chewed on his bottom lip, then his eyes darted up to Qui-Gon. “You’re not training me because of Obi-Wan, are you?”

Qui-Gon managed to turn a startled stillness into a look of polite confusion. He and Yoda had decided that they would not try to hide Venge’s involvement from the boy, though certainly they weren’t sharing all the details until they felt they had a better handle on the Dark and their use of it. As for who Venge was – well, far easier to say to anyone who thought they recognized the man that he was related to Obi-Wan. Admitting that they’d gone and killed a Sith Lord on the word of Qui-Gon’s dead padawan from some different reality was not the wisest thing to be done. “I don’t understand,” he admitted. “What are you asking?”

Anakin looked away. “Well, look, I know he was important to you and everything. He and I– we were both on Naboo. And, well, we both can use the Force, and– Look. I’m...I’m not some Obi-Wan stand-in, am I?”

Qui-Gon’s jaw dropped. “You– _What_? No!” He shook his head, trying to understand what in blazes could possibly be going on. “Why would you think that?”

Anakin started to pace, uncrossing his arms but hand remaining in contact with his lightsaber. “I...It’s not like this is a big thing." He gave Qui-Gon an awkward grin. "Not like the other thing, that’s for sure. I just wondered, what with the way you were taking to Rillian, if I was different, because–”

“ _No_.” Qui-Gon shoved his chair back, striding over to put his hands on Anakin’s shoulders. “Anakin, you are my padawan, and I _will_ give you the training you need to be a Knight. It is my duty and my pleasure to help you grow into your abilities.” Qui-Gon met Anakin’s gaze, making sure to impress upon the boy the gravity of his words. Qui-Gon waited until Anakin nodded, then removed his hands. “Rillian was unexpected, but it’s thanks to you that she’s here at all.”

Anakin scrunched his nose a little. “Me?”

Qui-Gon nodded. “I wasn’t ready to take another padawan after– after Obi-Wan. You should know, you helped me work through a lot of my guilt, misplaced though it was.”

“So it’s not that she’s...better?” Anakin blushed and looked down. “Fuck, I sound ridiculous.”

Qui-Gon gripped Anakin’s shoulder again, smiling slightly. “No, my young padawan, it’s not that at all. It’s...to be honest, this is easier to explain to someone who wasn’t raised in the Temple. What you feel for, say, your mother, and what you feel for me – these are both valid Attachments, and one does not diminish the other, correct?”

“Yeah," Anakin ducked his head. "You’re both– yeah.”

“Then, in the same way, both you and Rillian are my padawans, and one does not diminish the other, hm?”

“Okay,” Anakin said, and surprised Qui-Gon with a hug. At least Qui-Gon was getting better at knowing what to do with those. When Anakin pulled away, he had the impish grin that seemed to herald trouble. “So, care to give the new lightsabers a real workout?”

“If you’re hoping that I put it together poorly...”

Anakin’s smirk widened. “One way to find out! Let’s go, Master Jinn.” He pulled his lightsaber from his belt, giving it a casual flip before brandishing it in a mock salute.

It felt good to laugh, to awkwardly ruffle his padawan’s hair, before following him out to practice combat.

* * *

Yuri took a deep breath and rapped on the door frame. “Master Gallia,” he called out.

Adi’s head jerked up, her face plastered with the universal look of a desperate being drowning underneath reams of paperwork. “Master Dravaco!” She stood a little quickly, gesturing him to the small office’s other chair. “I thought you were still in the middle of that diplomatic mess.”

He tried to smile back as he sat down. “That actually ended almost two weeks ago. You...don’t want to hear about my trip back.” She arced a brow at him, and he had to wonder just how much trouble she was in, that a Council member – now former Council member – could be that hungry for any scrap of gossip or anecdote. “That’s not why I’m here, though.” He leaned forward. “Master Gallia, I understand this is odd, but I need some information. What happened with the Chancellor?”

Her brows went up. “You’ve been that far out of contact?”

“So to speak.” He didn’t mean to look quite so wry, but he couldn’t help himself. “The newsfeeds...”

Master Gallia rolled her eyes. “Can barely put together a coherent sentence about the matter, let alone the truth. Here.” She cleared ’plast on her desk away from a holo, and a moment later it displayed the inside of the Senate’s doors. The doors opened, admitted a black-clad Qui-Gon, a hooded Yoda, and a third cloaked Jedi.

Jinn stalked forward, glaring around before tensing and turning aside from his path, leading over to an image of Master Gallia and bringing her along in their wake. It was fascinating to see them hurry through the Senate halls, and Yuri’s breath caught the moment the recorder’s view switched from the blond Sith Lord dropping his cloak and lunging into the Chancellor’s office. He’d seen the newsfeeds’ treatment of the fight within the Senate dome, but watching the new view from inside the Chancellor’s office as the Sith burst in, lightsaber slashing in what _should_ have been a single fatal blow, only to see Palpatine swerve away – it was horrifying. He was stunned as Palpatine started to show signs of Darkside corruption within moments, leaping out of his office as the more familiar footage began to roll.

The Supreme Chancellor was unbelievably _fast_ , his lightsaber in position to block or strike before his opponents were in place. The sheer skill the man had to have with the Force was terrifying. “How could we not _see_ this?” Yuri murmured, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Shields,” Master Gallia said, just as soft. “Shielding such as I’ve never imagined.” At his confused look, she reversed the footage to show her entrance into the Chancellor’s office. She paused it as her image staggered against the wall, looking shell-shocked as the others leapt into battle. “That was part shock, part the Dark side.” She flicked her fingers almost dismissively at the still image, then wiped her hand on her pants leg as if to remove something noxious. “My family has ties to the Senate, and they expect a...certain amount of token appreciation and political appearances. Because of that, I’ve been in and out of the Senate building more than any other councilor barring Mace or– or Yoda, though I hadn’t spent nearly as much time around Palpatine as they did. _Not once_ did I have any idea there was something Dark in the building, but in that moment?”

She nodded towards the holo. “He began dropping his shields. I have never felt such despair being forced upon me. It was – it was like a weight being shoved upon my shoulders, only it was my mind, my emotions that were being quashed underneath every Dark emotion we abandon. Fear, hate, anger – we talk of them, we leave them behind, but in that moment?” Her face was pale. “It was everywhere, screaming through me. I could barely move until Sidious was out of the room.” She looked at Yuri, then shook her head. “I could do _nothing_. And they were all fighting in peak form.”

“ _Force_.” That was it. That was why Yoda had felt he needed to Fall, all that talk of– “How is it that it did not overwhelm you?”

Adi’s smile was wry and a little bitter. “I think had I been exposed to it longer, or had Sidious not been otherwise occupied, it might have.” She sped the recording back to the fight in the Senate Dome, then let the holo begin to play again. “Qui-Gon’s Sith friend wasn’t trying to keep the battle from me, but between him and Yoda, the acrobatics kept them on the move and a reasonable distance away. Once I wasn’t taking the full brunt of the Darkness, I could do what needed doing.”

Yuri made some noise of acknowledgement, then they quieted to watch the fight progress. He appreciated that whoever had stitched the footage together had taken the time to give a fairly complete picture of the fight – no dramatic angles, no arbitrary swapping of view, just enough slowing to keep things readily visible.

“You spent a lot of time on this,” he remarked at a spectacular shot of Jinn roaring in to remove Sidious’ head. Not surprising that had often shown up on the newsfeeds.

Master Gallia made a noise that was part scoff, part laugh. “Given I’m no longer on the Council, and bureaucracy is a favored form of punishment, I had to do _something_ in my spare time.”

Yuri paled again as the holo showed the Sith pinning– Sweet Force, that had to be Sidious – his, his spirit, his essence was caught and _held_ as Qui-Gon and Yoda set about tearing him to pieces. “I’ve never seen this footage,” he managed faintly.

“No, everyone thought it was a little...provocative for the public.”

Yuri shuddered at the _screaming_ he could see. It was all too easy to imagine what it sounded like. “Was this as bad as it seems?”

“Worse.” He glanced over to see her eyes were locked on the images. “When he...emerged from his body, it was– I’d thought the Darkness was horrible _before_. I was on the floor of the Senate. It was almost as bad as when the shields first dropped in his office. That sent many Jedi – Knights, experienced Masters – to their knees. One junior Knight got knocked out completely, and they were still in the hallways trying to _get_ closer.” She took in a steadying breath. “And he kept screaming. Most of it was anger and hate and threats. It wasn’t pain until– until about here. The end.”

The Supreme Chancellor dissipated into wisps of smoke that drifted apart, and Yuri shuddered. It had been no Light technique. That must have been what Master Yoda had meant. They had needed the Dark side to destroy...whatever it was that Palpatine had become. “Does anyone know what the spirit thing was? Or was attempting to do?” He felt cold, in a way he’d never felt except after a battle, one of the ugly ones where he’d found blaster marks on the tips of his clothes, signs that he’d been a hair’s breadth from dying, one wrong movement away from having taken a fatal blaster bolt.

“Theories only. Some of the more...esoteric archivists think that the old stories about Sith leaving a part of their essence in objects or– or people might not be just crèche stories.”

He had to take a moment to absorb that. “You’re joking,” he said flatly, gaping at her. Master Gallia shook her head. “That– but– _Force!_ ”

Master Gallia nodded. “I’d hate to see how that could have turned out.” She sighed and looked back at the holo. “But I couldn’t swear that I would have done...that, even if I knew how.” Her smile was wry and tired. “I’ve had quite a lot of meditation about the matter. I couldn’t swear I wouldn’t, either. Palpatine felt _evil._ ”

Something clicked into place. Yoda, Anakin, and Qui-Gon hadn’t been evil. Uncanny and dangerous, certainly, but evil? No.

“Master Dravaco!” Doom opened the door in the form of Mace Windu, scowling fit to flay offending idiots. Yuri shot to his feet automatically, cursing under his breath at whoever had tattled his presence to the Head of the Order. “I’ve heard some very interesting stories about you of late.” His baleful gaze landed on the security footage, which Master Gallia quickly stopped, looking like a guilty initiate caught mid-prank.

The holo was paused as a dignified Yoda stood square and challenging to Mace. Qui-Gon was assisting the blond human with an impossible gentleness, concern for his companion evident in every line of Jinn, as if there weren’t dozens of Jedi waiting with lightsabers ready to strike all three down.

Yuri cleared his throat. “I had a very interesting trip back from Batorine–”

“You were seen on Ilum, which as I recall is nowhere _near_ Batorine. You were seen _with Yoda_.”

Adi’s head whipped around and she stared at him. Well, damn. Not how he wanted to let that particular tidbit out. “Yes, I was.”

“Would you care to explain yourself?” Mace’s growl made it clear the answer ought to be ‘yes,’ and quickly.

That, of course, just made Yuri cranky. He’d had quite enough of being pushed around and tugged in all sorts of strange directions over the last few days. “I’ve a Council debriefing regarding the Batorine situation, Master Windu. To my knowledge it has reached the Council’s secretary and is due to be scheduled in the next few days. That is standard operating procedure.”

“And what does that have to do with consorting with a known Darksider?”

He somehow dared to meet Windu’s eyes. “Master Yoda–”

“Has left this Order and should be considered a Master no more.” Mace’s voice snapped with something between precision and anger.

 _That is not right. That is not fair, or proper, or anything but letting your anger get the best of you._

“I encountered _Master_ Yoda in my own time, by chance. Given I have been out of contact with the civilized parts of the galaxy for _weeks,_ I decided to take the initiative and investigate some very strange newsfeeds regarding the Fall of _Master_ Yoda and the death of the Chancellor.”

He could hear Windu’s teeth grinding over a meter away. “This took you to Ilum how, Dravaco?”

 _Force, are you a crècheling? We’re really playing games with titles and rank?_ “He was traveling there. Given I had no transport available to me, and he was quite insistent that he go to Ilum, I elected to travel with him, on his invitation. I had free reign to question him about motives, means, and what the blazes happened.”

“Reports say he had an Apprentice with him.”

“ _Padawan_.”

Mace’s head tilted with a slow, predatory air matched by the incredulous rise of a brow. “Excuse me?”

 _Dammit, Skywalker, you owe me one_. It seemed pretty moot how much he revealed of Ilum; Mace had to have gotten word from the outpost, and probably the returning padawans as well. “Padawan Skywalker deserves the respect of the position he has earned, as Qui-Gon Jinn’s student. _Master_ Yoda does not have an apprentice, or a padawan.”

Muscles jumped around Windu’s eyes. “Jinn was there, as well?” He sounded like he was now ready to flay whoever had left that bit of information out.

“No.” At Mace’s look of surprise, Yuri lifted his chin and glared. “Master Windu, I have met with Yoda and Qui-Gon, and if you wish me to visit the mind-healers or Guardians to see if I’m somehow being influenced by the Force or outside elements, so be it. But I have seen to my satisfaction that they are trying to live quiet, simple lives, and while they continue to use the Force, they have no interest in matters of the Republic or the Jedi Order.”

“They use the Dark side,” Windu growled, glaring at him.

Yuri shrugged. “But they are not Sith. Either I am a Master in this Order, qualified to travel on the Order’s command to dispense justice and make decisions in favor of the Light, or I am not. If I am the former, then I am quite qualified to assess two Force users and their student. Yes, they use the Dark. I still find that disturbing and more than once it made my skin crawl. Yet _they_ are not Dark. Don’t ask me how they do it; I didn’t inquire about those details. Frankly, I don’t _want_ to know those details. I am a _Jedi_. They’re looking to craft some kind of hybrid approach, and I wish them luck, because without that we might one day have to face a Qui-Gon and Yoda who have Fallen in truth.” He took a breath, then glared Mace in the eyes. “But given the depths Jinn fell into, the things he suffered in the last five years, I think it would take immense pressures for that man to completely Fall. And in the meantime, _you_ were the one to make the decision to let them go. _I_ merely found that your decision seems to have been correct.”

Master Gallia shifted just a tiny bit, breaking the staring contest that Mace was winning. She opened her mouth to say something, a stubborn expression on her face. Mace silenced her with a swiftly raised hand. “Do _not_ start with me, Adi.” He glared back at Yuri. “You met with them. These ‘quiet, simple lives’ they’re trying to live – _where have they holed up?_ ”

“I have vowed to not reveal that.”

The air in the room turned brittle, the Force clanging with emotion that Mace was trying to clear. “What.”

“They are not a threat to the Jedi Order!” Yuri knew he was almost yelling, but Force take it, this was absurd. “Three men – two and a boy if you wish to be accurate – who are experimenting with use of the Force, without the recklessness of some random idiot who happens to have some power and the will to use it – what is the _harm_? Master Windu, I made a promise. They let me see what they do, they demonstrated without trying to teach or subvert, they have acted with honor and dignity. They. Are. Not. _Sith_. We as Jedi have the mandate to stop _Sith_ , not users of the Dark side!”

“So by taking another name they are no menace?”

“They don’t _have_ a name! It’s just people trying to live their lives!”

“What about when that changes?” Mace stepped forward, almost growling the words at him. “What happens when other Dark users hear of this, and flock to them, since we seem to be willing to turn a blind eye to their doings?”

Yuri tried to ignore the ball of ice in his guts, the way he’d ignored – hidden – Rillian’s presence and what it might imply. All of them had been Jedi at one time. Dark – oh, Force, he’d listened to them too long.

Dark did not mean evil.

“Do you really think Master Yoda would allow that?” Yuri asked, voice soft and intent. “He’s spent hundreds of years serving the Light. Even what he did in the Senate served the Light, in the end.”

“He. Fell. He serves the Dark side now.”

“No. I saw him, I interacted with him – Master Windu, I’m sure there were reports from the class of padawans on Ilum. One of them offered him great insult, and he did _nothing_. Padawan Skywalker took offense when one of them attacked Master Yoda–”

“ _What_?” Adi squawked.

“–with a snowball, a bit of frozen ice. It was uncalled for, utterly unprovoked, and Yoda would have ignored it, except he had to subdue Padawan Skywalker. There were no bloodthirsty rampages, there was no actual violence, and if you think that is _Sith_ behavior, then you need to get out of this Temple more often and see how sentients normally act!”

Silence crackled through the room, and Yuri held his breath. Too far. There was pushing, there was taking a stand, and then there was too far. He’d gone over the line and offered direct insult to the _Head of the Order._

“Master Dravaco, you should take some time and think about what it means to be on probation.” Mace glared at him a bit longer, then turned away. “You have a debriefing with the Council. I want a hardcopy of your notes in hand when you give it. You have one hour!” He stormed out of the room, leaving a very awkward silence. Adi finally cleared her throat.

Yuri shook his head. “Well. That went worse than I expected.” He ground his teeth, then forced a grin over at Adi. “Master Gallia.” He sat back in the chair, and with excessive casualness he started the holo back up. “If you wouldn’t mind going through that again?”

She raised a brow. “I was under the impression Master Windu wanted you writing a report.”

He snorted. “There’s no way in any hell I’m getting it done in an hour. It being more or less done won’t matter.” He pointed to the holo, where a small Mace faced off against three battered figures. “Understanding this, however, does.”

Adi sat back down, cautious and very curious. “I’m not sure what there is left to say. I’ve told you all I know.” Yuri nodded slowly, and they kept their eyes on the holo as three Dark users walked through a respectful and fearful corridor of Jedi, then dropped away from the watchful cameras.


End file.
